
Class f T^H& G 

Book fl I 

By bequest 01 * / I 

William Lukens Shoemaker 



2-OlZJ. 

'£'?$-'' 



74, 



THE 



POEMS OF SCHILLER, 



Complete, 



EDITED AND TRANSLATED 



BY HENRY -D. WIREMAN, 



AUTHOR OF "GEMS OF GERMAN LYRICS," " LENORE, FROM THE 

GERMAN OF BUERGER, IN THE ORIGINAL METRE, 

WITH INTRODUCTION," ETC., ETC. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

IG. KOHLEB, 202 N. FOURTH STEEET. 

18 71. 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, 

By Ig. Kohler, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 

Gift. 

w. I... Shoemaker 

7 S '06 



PRINTED BY SHERMAN <fe CO., 
S. W. COR. SEVENTH AND CHERRY STREETS. 



TO THE READER. 



It is the Publisher's object in issuing the present vol- 
ume of Schiller's poems, complete in German and English r 
including his early suppressed pieces, and others, both 
with the alterations, and also as they originally appeared 
in the "Horen," " Musen-Almanach," "Thalia" and 
elsewhere, to familiarize the American public with the 
products of a mind, pure as the purest, good as the best, 
and great as the greatest, hoping that they will become 
as popular in America, as they are in Germany. He 
proposes to do this, by presenting an edition, which, in 
elegance and correctness, shall vie with that of a Cotta 
or a Pickering, and yet be within the reach of all. What 
he has already done in this beautiful field of literature, 
deserves the appreciation and recognition of every judge 
and lover of Poetry, — Poetry as distinguished from Poet- 
astry, as Schiller, the Century-plant, is from "the thou- 
sand jingling dilettanti," the first scentless Violets of 
Spring, — for the world were the worse without them. The 
living monument the Publisher has thus reared to the 
pure and honest Swabian, we hope to see soon succeeded 
by the marble block, modeled by an American, who, 
though not a Phidias, may he be another Thorwaldsen, 
Canova, or Eauch, destined to adorn our beautiful Park, 
the pride of every Philadelphian, thus enriching, with 
works of Art, the picturesque scene, so exquisitely drawn 
by Nature. 

Our pleasant Editorial task, is to cull and collate the 
best translations of Schiller's poems, known to us, in the 

(i) ( fi ) 



11 

English language; to consult all the accessible authorities 
in Europe and America ; and, after careful comparison 
with the original and with each other, to present those 
which are nearest the spirit of the great German poet, in 
the purest English. We would impress upon the reader, 
however, that it is not demanded for this collection, 
that it contains, throughout, the best translations of 
Schiller our language will admit, nor 'those, which, in 
every instance, reach the standard we would establish for 
a poetical translation. Yet, they are among the best, in 
our opinion, at present existing, and we do not hesitate 
to affirm that many of them are as near perfection as the 
idioms of the two languages will allow, especially some of 
the third period. If any German scholar expects to find 
in the English language, or in any other, a translation 
of Schiller's « Hymn to Joy," " The Artists," " The Ideal 
and Life," or " The Song of the Bell," wherein the won- 
derful beauties of the imagination, the depths of Philoso- 
phy, and the sublimity of conception, in their various 
shadings, are reproduced equal to the originals, we frankly 
tell him he will be doomed to bitter disappointment ; for 
any one to make an almost perfect rendition of such 
master-pieces, is simply — impossible. It were, therefore, 
as unjust for a person to judge of the merits of a produc- 
tion of the above class, with a view of rating the author, 
by means of a translation, as it would be to judge the 
genius of a Eaphael, by a chromo of the Madonna di San 
Sisto. The few able and successful translators of "The 
Artists," and kindred poetical compositions, were, them- 
selves, deeply impressed with the impossibility of present- 
ing English versions satisfactory in every respect; and 
they confess, with a conscientiousness and modesty, which 
always accompany and grace true learning, that they could 
only hope to reproduce some of the warmth and sweetness 
of the originals ; they can paint the Rose, but not as we 
see it blushing at early morn in all its beauteous fresh- 

(6) 



Ill 

ness, with the dewdrops clinging to its folds, which give 
its true beauty. 

If a translator from the German Classics be so fortu- 
nate as to attract but a single reader by his labors, who 
will follow him with ever growing interest, who will 
learn to appreciate an Author interpreted by him, so as 
to induce such a study of the language as will furnish a 
free perusal of Schiller as Schiller wrote it; then is the 
translator well repaid for his arduous, and somewhat un- 
thankful task ; then is his mission, in a great measure, ful- 
filled. A metaphrase, if at all poetical, has generally been 
preferred to a paraphrase. So we consider Schiller a 
model approaching too near perfection, to be improved 
by any translator, however great as an Author. Although 
we admire grace and brilliancy of diction not less than 
the most fastidious, yet, when it becomes absolutely nec- 
essary to make a sacrifice, either of the poetry or the sense, 
in a poetical translation, we would far rather see the senti- 
ment correctly rendered, though not breathing the high- 
est poetry, than something the Author never said or meant, 
most exquisitely expressed — a homely truth being prefer- 
able to a gilded falsehood. 

The struggles of the imagination of youthful Genius, 
an imagination in the highest degree feverish and impas- 
sioned, yet pure and Platonic, with sentimentalism and 
melancholy, as vented in Schiller's love-songs and elegies, 
so interesting as illustrating the formation of his character 
as a great Poet, appear to have been overlooked or neg- 
lected by the great majority of translators. Schiller 
was only seized upon by the myriads of transfusers, many 
of whom are little better than confusers, when he no 
longer sang Laura's praises, Laura, who merely sup- 
planted, in whom the youthful genius thought to realize, 
for the time, the vague Ideal ; when 

" Die schoene Zeit der jungen Liebe" 
was only another sweet dream of the past ; when Time had 

(7) 



IV 

subdued youth, the poetic flights no longer soaring to the 
extravagant, and had brought manhood and strength. 
Though Schiller had at this time emerged from one state 
of thraldom, we now find him contending with Kantism 
and transcendentalism, yearning and striving to attain 
that something which the humblest feels, that to which 
few can give expression, none explain, which the Philoso- 
pher might call Perfection, the Poet, Life's Ideal. To all 
it is, at best, an ignis fatuus ; the deepest theorists and 
thinkers the world has ever produced, when past the 
meridian of life, tell us so; thus, at times, refuting the 
whole argument of their lives. Man may derive much 
enjoyment in its pursuit, it has bejen a lethean draught to 
many for bodily ills and worldly torments; but, as man 
grows older, it too, like the other dreams of life, fades 
and disappears, and, when standing on the brink of Death, 
he still finds Life's problem unsolved. 

What a glorious theme is Schiller for the bards and 
essayists of every clime, for ages to come! Schiller, the 
idol of the German people, whom they fondly, aye, jeal- 
ously call, "our Schiller " (" unser Schiller ") ; who strove 
by noble precepts and pure aesthetics to elevate them to a 
.level with himself, not, like one of his brilliant contem- 
poraries, nor like many able writers of the present day 
would do to become popular, by lowering himself to a 
level with the multitude, or beneath them. He has done 
more to educate the German mind than all the Gymnasia 
(Classical schools), Universities, and rigorous school laws 
of the Fatherland combined. 

To the Germans' plea, however, that Schiller belongs 
to them alone, we respectfully demur : every country 
where learning is at home, — England through Coleridge, 
Carlyle, Bulwer, Merivale, Bowring, Dulcken, and 
others; Ireland, — through Mangan; France, — through 
Constant, Barante, and Madame de Stael ; the United 
States, — through Frothinghani, Dwight, Brooks, Ban- 

(8) 



croft, Baskerville, Channing, Cranch, Clarke, Hedge, 
Eliot, Furness, and others — has contributed laurels and 
immortelles .to the chaplet wherewith the world within 
the world, the little world of education and culture has 
crowned him, all the inhabitants whereof have an equal 
and just claim upon him, as they have upon Shakespeare, 
Goethe, Dante, Voltaire, Irving, or Longfellow. 

It were idle for us to speak at any very great length of 
Schiller or his poems. They who would become inti- 
mately acquainted with him, should read his works, more 
especially his Lyrics, for in them he has written his auto- 
biography, or, as Madame de Stael pithily expresses it, 
" Ses ecrits sont lui." Schiller's biographies are numerous 
and well written ; one of the shortest and best we have 
translated and prepared for this work. A criticism of his 
poetical productions, whether he was both Philosopher 
and Poet, whether Philosophy can be made to harmonize 
with Poetry, or, whether his predilections for the psycho- 
logical aesthetic theorists, and his own philosophical med- 
itations and speculations, throw a mist-like veil over his 
Poetry — were a task as unthankful for us, as it would be 
uninteresting to most readers. Yet, this we will say, he 
never adopted the rule the ultra-philosophical-poetical 
school would seem to lay down, that " Poetry should be 
a riddle," a rule we are compelled to denounce as unnatu- 
ral, though evidently supported by a Humboldt, being 
antagonistic to every principle of Poesy, as we under- 
stand it. 

Psychological and metaphysical aesthetics, or, as many 
of our countrymen would be inclined to express it, " Ger- 
man Philosophy," are, to the majority, but mystical and 
perplexing studies. Moreover, we consider true criticism, 
not the mere playing with words, not the glorification of 
self, an Art so profound — especially in a critical essay in- 
volving not only the relations of Philosophy to Poetry, 
but an examination and comparison of the theories of 

(9) 



VI 

Kant, Schelling, and Spinoza — and Schiller's position in 
Germany pre-eminent by acclamation, and this although 
" a prophet is not without honor save in his own country," 
that we approach our " Immortal Bard " with a certain 
degree of awe and veneration. And yet, shall we confess 
it, our approach is not unmingled with a thrill of selfish 
delight, that it should have devolved upon us, however 
incompetent, to edit and translate the poems of our favor- 
ite Poet, and this in our own, a sister language. 

What we would say further upon this subject, has been 
previously and more gracefully written than we could 
express it, by three savants of as many nationalities. The 
first, Menzel, is high authority as a critic of German 
literature. Perhaps, as an anti-Goethean, he is unneces- 
sarily sarcastic, and often unreasonable, as a critic is 
apt to be, when diverging from what should be his golden 
rule — never to allow extraneous considerations to affect 
what should be his impartial judgment, after a thorough 
investigation of his subject. 

Menzel's diction flows with an ease, grace, and bril- 
liancy to be met with in few writers ; in speaking of 
Schiller, among other things, he says : 

" There is no principle, no feeling of honor and right, 
which might not be supported by a beautiful passage or a 
pregnant sentence from Schiller's poems ; and these ex- 
pressions live on the people's lips. Schiller has concen- 
trated his whole poetical power upon the representation 
of man ; and, in fact, of the ideal greatness and beauty 
of the human soul — the highest and most mysterious of 
all miracles. The external world he looked upon only as 
a foil, — as a contrast or comparison for man. 

11 Every great genius is a rare flower, existing only in 
a single specimen, wholly peculiar as to form, fragrance, 
and color. The inward impelling and living power of 
such an intellectual flower is a mystery, self-produced, to 
be unriddled by no one. Who has ever explained the 

(10) 



Vll 

spirit of the flowers, or the fragrance of the blossoms, 
which is one thing in this, another in that? Who has 
explained to us the charm which excites an interest in 
Raphael's pictures, so entirely peculiar ? And who the 
intellectual breath, and fragrance, and the inner charm 
of soul in Schiller's characters ? Definitions of the under- 
standing are to no purpose here ; it is only by comparison 
that we can define the feeling more exactly. 

" Raphael's name has forced itself involuntarily upon 
me ; and it is undeniable that the spirit of moral beauty 
hovers over Schiller's poetical creations, as the spirit of 
visible beauty hovers over Raphael's pictures. The moral 
element appears in the changes and the life of history ; 
and action, struggle, is the sphere in which it moves : 
visible beauty, like all nature together, is confined to 
quiet existence. 

"Thus Schiller's ideals must show themselves in con- 
flict; those of Raphael, in gentle and sublime repose. 
Schiller's genius could not shun the office of the warlike 
angel Michael ; Raphael's genius was only the gentle an- 
gel who bears his name. That original and inexplicable 
charm, however, the heavenly magic, the reflected splen- 
dor of a higher world, which belongs to the faces of 
Raphael, belongs also to the characters of Schiller. No 
painter has been able to represent the human face, no 
poet the human soul, with this loveliness and majesty of 
beauty. 

" Schiller's heroes are distinguished by a nobleness of 
nature which produces at once the effect of pure and per- 
fect beauty, like the nobleness expressed by the pictures 
of Raphael. There is about them something kingly, that 
at once excites a holy reverence. But this beam of a 
higher light, falling upon the dark shadows of earthly 
corruption, can but shine the brighter: among the spectres 
of hell, an angel becomes the lovelier. 

" The first secret of this beauty is the angelic innocence 

(11) 



Vlll 

which dwells eternally in the noblest natures. This noble- 
ness of innocence recurs with the same celestial features 
of a pure young angel, in all the great poetic creations of 
Schiller. In the clearest transfiguration, like the purity 
of childhood, perfectly unarmed, and yet unassailable, 
like the royal infant, who, according to the legend, played 
unharmed and smiling among the wild beasts of the for- 
ests, — this innocence stands forth in the noble picture of 
Fridolin. 

"If it becomes conscious of its own happiness, it then 
excites the envy of the celestial powers. With this new 
and touching charm, we see it in 'Hero and Leander.' 
Adorned with the warrior's helm, its blooming cheeks 
blushing with the fire of noble passion, youthful innocence 
comes forth against all the dark powers of hell. Thus has 
Schiller delineated it in ' The Diver,' and ' The Surety,' 
and in those unhappy lovers, Charles Moor and Amalie, 
Ferdinand and Louisa, and, above all, in Max Picco- 
lomini and Thekla. Over these moving pictures a magic 
of poetry hovers, which is nowhere equalled. It is the 
flute-tone amidst wild and shrieking music, a blue glimpse 
of heaven in a storm, a paradise within the abyss of a 
crater. 

" If Shakspeare's pictures seemed to be charmed into a 
still purer lily tint, yet Schiller's maidens claim the pre- 
rogative of that soul of the lily, of its powerful and living 
fragrance ; and here they bear a closer resemblance to the 
poems of Sophocles. They are not feeble, like the saints 
of Carlo Dolce, or Correggio, but they bear about them 
a sacred fire of strength, like the Madonnas of Eaphael. 
They not only move us, — they inspire us." 

The second, Carlyle, who understands the Germans 
and their literature better than any author of the present 
day not himself a German, thus writes of Schiller: 

"To a considerable extent, Schiller may be said to ex- 
pound himself. His greatness is of a simple kind ; his 

(12) 



IX 

manner of displaying it is, for the most part, apprehensi- 
ble to every one. Besides, of all German writers, rank- 
ing in any such class as his, Klopstock scarcely excepted, 
he has the least nationality : his character indeed is Ger- 
man, if German mean true, earnest, nobly-humane; but 
his mode of thought, and mode of utterance, all but the 
mere vocables of it, are European. Accordingly, it is to 
be observed, no German writer has had such acceptance 
with foreigners ; has been so instantaneously admitted 
into favor, at least any favor which proved permanent. 

" Schiller has no hatred ; no anger, save against False- 
hood and Baseness, where it may be called a holy anger. 
Presumptuous triviality stood bared in his keen glance ; 
but his look is the noble scowl that curls the lip of an 
Apollo, when, pierced with sun-arrows, the serpent ex- 
pires before him. In a word, we can say of Schiller, 
what can be said only of few in any country or time : He 
was a high ministering servant at Truth's altar ; and bore 
him worthily of the office he held." 

The third and last, our distinguished countryman, John 
S. Dwight, to whom Americans unacquainted with Ger- 
man, owe much of their knowledge of Schiller's and 
Goethe's minor poems, thus eloquently discourses upon 
Schiller: 

"A poet's life is in his works; especially in lighter 
lyric pieces. They are the most genuine things the poet 
does ; into them goes most of the character and nature of 
the man ; in them you have him under all his moods and 
aspects ; and if they win you to their mood, and haunt 
you long, you feel that you know him. Could Schiller 
be brought near us in some such living way, it would give 
a new impulse to our literature, and inspire worthier aims 
and methods of culture, than prevail. The student of 
this writer looks up to him as a benefactor to his whole 
nature. From Schiller he learns lofty aspirations, he 
speaks to him amid the hackneyed forms of life of a better 

(13) 



ideal world, and warns him, inspires him, to trust all in- 
ward intimations of the True, the Beautiful, the Perfect, 
however contradicted by the Actual. 

" The living movement, which commenced with Schiller 
and Goethe, has been for some time making itself felt 
through other conventional and lifeless literature. It has 
reached us here, and it is welcomed. Its influences can- 
not but be fruitful. It speaks always to the young life 
of a people. It tells the reader that he too is something ; 
it salutes with quickening emphasis what original force 
and fire there may be in him. It is philanthropic in its 
spirit; it is earnest, natural, true, and truth-loving. It 
hallows, while it fertilizes and adorns the common walks 
of life. To the common interests of all as men it speaks ; 
it explores that great common field, and tells us, with the 
glow of ever fresh discovery, how boundless are its riches ; 
how life, and thought, and poetry, and beauty, are the 
inheritance of Man, and not of any class, or age, or nation ; 
and how each, however humble, by fidelity to himself, 
shall find the natural current of his own being leading 
back into the very bosom of that ocean. More especially 
is this the poet's mission ; and the great poets of Germany 
in these days [thirty years ago — Ed.] have been the fore- 
most to have faith to try and prove its efficacy. Prom 
the poems and the lives of Schiller and Goethe, many a 
young mind has caught the watchword of self-culture ; 
let him speed it onwards." 

In the above panegyric, so exquisitely framed, Dwight 
has struck the key-note to a refrain that should be taken 
up and wafted onward, until its vibrations have touched 
every heart in the land. How much better it would be 
for us in America, where so many pride themselves upon 
their intense realism or practicality, were we only to 
hearken more to our inward intimations of the Good, the 
True, the Beautiful, and the Perfect, and not, like the 
multitude, deliberately stifling, instead of fostering, our 

(U) 



XI 



natural love for attributes so noble, for fear of falling under 
the ban of sentimentalism or transcendentalism, favorite 
terms with the exclusively practical, and which they in- 
variably use as synonymous with some human but foolish 
weakness. The American youth has instilled into his 
mind, at an early age, mainly through the example of 
his elders, an aversion for anything unpractical ; by un- 
practical we mean anything that will not be, at some 
period of his life, of advantage to him in a -pecuniary sense. 
When he enters the world to battle for himself, generally 
at an age when his transatlantic brother is all intent upon 
his toys, he will proudly tell you, fired with youthful en- 
thusiasm and wild ambition which are almost equivalent 
to success : "lama man, every spark of sentiment and 
susceptibility is extinguished, and henceforth I dedicate 
my life to business and thoughts of business only." He 
has no time to waste (?) in dreaming of a better Ideal- 
world, to compose sonnets, to devote to Music, or to 
clog his mind with abstruse philosophical speculations. 
The earth-god, Mammon, rules his destinies ; his are not 
poetical, but financial reveries; his aerial castles he builds 
of gold, and when one, almost completed, crumbles to 
pieces, producing financial ruin, another, Phoenix-like, 
rises from the debris, the realization of his dream of 
wealth. Would it not be better, in this as in most things, 
to teach the youth of our land to seek a i l happy medium?" 
What is man without education and culture? And what 
were life to a man of education and culture, without the 
Fine Arts ? We think if the American would impart 
to the German some of his Eealism, in return for some 
of the German's Idealism, it would tend to make them 
both happier, better contented with themselves and the 
world. We, therefore, raise our feeble voice in an earnest 
and sincere appeal to all, especially to those who would 
explore the fairy realms of Ideal Beauty, with a guide 
who has penetrated where none other can lead, to read 

(15) 



Xll 

Schiller, in the original, if possible, il that they may be 
warned, inspired by him, that they may" learn to heed and 
" trust all inward intimations of the True, the Beautiful, 
the Perfect, however contradicted by the Actual." These 
intimations we all have ; the thoughts of few, it is true, 
soar to the apex of the Ideal Beautiful and Perfect, and 
even to the gifted few who have gained by application the 
summit of Mount Parnassus, the prospect is often obscure. 

Not unlike this is the experience of the enthusiastic 
traveler and lover of the Beautiful in Nature, who makes 
the pilgrimage from his cis-atlantic home and toils up 
the Kigi, to view Nature's world-renowned panorama, 
illuminated by the rising sun, only to peer into — chaos, 
and to find, on every side, the cloudy, misty curtains 
down. In this world a glorious sunrise or sunset, much less 
both, is vouchsafed to few. 

Yet the humblest one among us, at some period of his 
life, more especially in youth, feels these intimations, the 
language of the finer feelings, in what may be called the 
naive or innate sentimental, sentimentalism as natural as 
life itself. He who would call hackneyed the themes it sug- 
gests to the Artist's or Poet's mind, might as illogically, 
not to say foolishly, call Nature and the Affections hack- 
neyed. How often Sophistry is mistaken for Philosophy. 

Who is there of us, if we would but confess it, that does 
not love Nature — Nature, the Poet's favorite and most 
fruitful theme ? To this day, if our memory be faithful, 
there exists a school following the doctrine of the ancients, 
laid down by Aristotle, that, "Art must imitate Nature." 
Whose heart does not beat quicker and cheek glow brighter 
at the advent of Spring, with its cheering sunbeams, per- 
fumed zephyrs ; its flowers, so exquisite in colors, so rich 
in fragrance ; its merry warblers, and many delightful 
associations ? Who does not venerate the " home-circle ' ' 
presided over by man's best friend, his mother, or by the 
mother of his children ? Who does not love to romp with 

(16) 



Xlll 

prattling innocence ? Who does not value friendship as 
something more than mere convenience ? And loving 
thus, is it not natural, aye, beautiful, that we should de- 
light to see such sentiments, sentiments noble and in- 
spiring^ portrayed upon canvas, embodied in Poetry, or 
set to Music ? And does not the Master who can do this, 
deserve the praise of all ? 

To us, a man who would deliberately extinguish every 
spark of sentiment and susceptibility, who ridicules all 
Ideal, is as bad as he who would revel in an Ideal-world, 
by neglecting the sacred duties imposed upon him as a 
member of society. They are duties involving reciprocal 
rights, rights due by him to the members of the com- 
munity, and rights those members owe to him. If he 
would retain his manhood, he is bound to see these rights 
enforced, not always so much for himself, as for those 
dependent upon him. They are frequently far removed 
from the Beautiful or the Perfect, but we should cheer- 
fully perform them. When they are over, we can return 
to our haunts, and enjoy with greater zest our favorite 
studies, which then, and only then, become recreations. 

The most outre Idealist and Dreamer (Schwaermer), 
whatever his trade or profession, can find consolation in 
the following aphorism, translated from the German of 
Julie Burow : 

" Who never knew misfortune, lived but half; 
Who never wept, ne'er heartily did laugh ; 
Who never failed, could scarce have striv'n and wrought; 
Who never doubted, hardly could have thought." 

With these desultory remarks, ye wondrous songs, 
children of a Giant-mind, we send you into the thinking 
world. Ply to old and young, alight at the mansion of 
the rich and at the cottage of the poor, upon every one 
that welcomes you with kindly smile or fervent tear, be- 
stow a hearty greeting, from 

H. D. W. 

Philadelphia, May, 1871. 

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(VII) 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Memoir of Schiller's Life, x 

Charlotte von Schiller, l 

POEMS OF THE FIRST PERIOD. 



PAGE 

Hector's Farewell, 3 

Amalia, 4 

A Funeral Phantasy, .... 4 

Phantasy — To Laura, .... 7 

To Laura — At the Harpsichord, 9 

Rapture — To Laura, .... 11 

The Mystery of Reminiscence, 12 

Melancholy— To Laura, ... 14 

The Infanticide, 18 

The Vastness of Creation, . . 22 
Elegy on the Death of a Young 

Man, 23 

The Battle, 27 

Rousseau, 29 



PAGE 

Friendship, 30 

Group from Tartarus, ... 32 

Elysium, 32 

The Fugitive, 33 

The Flowers, 35 

Ode to Spring, 36 

To Minna, 37 

The Triumph of Love, ... 39 

Fortune and Wisdom, ... 45 

The Dignity of Man, .... 45 

To a Moralist 48 

Count Eberhard, the Quarreler 

of Wiirtemberg, 49 



POEMS OF THE SECOND PERIOD. 

Hymn to Joy 55 

The Invincible Fleet, ... 59 

The Conflict, 60 

Resignation, 61 

The Gods of Greece, .... 64 
The Gods of Greece. Published 



for the friends of the first 
edition, 

The Celebrated Woman, . . 

Verses Inscribed in a Young 
Lady's Album, 

October, 1788 



The Artists 82 



POEMS OF THE THIRD PERIOD. 



The Meeting, 101 

To Emma, 102 

The Secret, 103 

Expectation, 104 

Evening 106 



Longings, 

The Pilgrim, 

The Ideals, 

The Maiden's Lament, . . 
Th<8 Youth by the Brook, . 



The Favor of the Moment, . 114 

The Lay of the Mountain, . 116 

The Alpine Hunter 117 

Dithyrambic, 119 

The Four Ages of the World, 119 

Punch Song, 122 

To my Friends 123 

Punch Song. To be sung in 

Northern Countries, . . . 124 

Trooper's Song, 126 

Nadowessian Death-Lament, 128 
(VII) (19) 



VIII 



©eite 

TM ©tege*fef! 129 

£!age ber Sere* 134 

Da* <S(euftfd>e ge|r 139 

Der Sttng fees ^etufrate* 146 

Dietfranidje be* Sbljfu* 149 

Jpero ttlib Seanber 155 

•Saffanbra 163 

Die 23iirgfd)aft. (Damon unb 

gtyirttia*) 167 

Der £aud)er 172 

fitter £oggeubur<j 178 

Der $ampf mit bem Dradjen 180 

Der ©ang nad) bem (Eifenbammer 190- 

Der ©raf sen .$ab*burg 197 

Der £anbfd)ub 202 

Da* »erfd)(eierte 23ilb ju ©at*.... 204 

Die Slbeitung ber @rbe 207 

Da* SCRdbd)en au* ber grembe..... 20S 

Da* Sbeat unb bag Seben 209 

SParaBetn unb Sft&ttyti 214 

Der ©pajiergang 221 

Da* Steb sort ber ©lode 231 

Die 2Jta*t be* ©efange* 244 

2Biirbe ber ftrauen 246 

Jpoffnung 249 

Sic beutfdje 9flufe 250 

Der ©amann 251 

Der $aufmann 251 

Dbuffeu* 251 

£artf>ago , 252 

Die Sobanniter 252 

Deutfd>e £reuc 253 

Columbu* 254 

Pompeii unb £ercutanum 254 

<jtia* 257 

3eu* ju Jperfute* 257 

Die Sinttfe an ben norbifd)en 

ffianberer 257 

Die ©anger ber SBortoett 258 

Die STntifen ju $art* 259 

Zi>dia, tint ©eifterjtimme 260 

Da* 2ttatd)en son Drtean* 260 

Sflenie 261 

Der fpteteube .Rnabe 262 

Tie ©efd)ted)ter 262 

2)?ad>t be* SBeibe* 264 

Der Zar\i 266 

Da* ©tiicE 662 



©die 
Der ©enfu* .'.... 270 

Der pbitofopbifebe ggotti 273 

Die ffiorte be* ©tauten* 274 

Die 2Borte be* 3Babn* 275 

©priid)e be* Sonfuctu* 276 

Sidjt unb SBarme 277 

Srette unb Diefe 278 

Die gutter be* Seben* 278 

2ird>imebe* unb ber ©d)itter. 279 

2ttenfd)ltd)e* JBtffen 280 

Diejtuet Dugenbraege 280 

SCurben 280 

3emtt) unb ftabtr 281 

Die ibea(ifd)e greibett 281 

Da* £inb in ber SBtege 281 

Da* Untoanbeibare 282 

£I)eopbaiue 282 

Da* J?od)fte 282 

Unikrblid)feit 282 

Stotfotafetit 282-293 

Die befte ©taat*«erfaffung 293 

5Tn bie ©efeggeber 294 

Da* gftrwurbtge 294 

Salfdjer ©tubirtrieo 294 

Quelle ber SBerjihtgung 294 

Der SRaturtrei* 294 

Der ©emu* mtt ber umgefebrten 

%add 294 

Dugenb be* SBeibe* 295 

Die fdjimfte ©rfdjeinung 295 

Sorum be* 2Beibe* 295 

2Beibtid>e* Urtbeit 295 

Da* teeibtidje Sbeat 295 

©rwartung unb ©rftitlung 296 

Da* gemeinfame ©d)idffat 296 

9[ftenfd)ftd)e* SBirlen £96 

Der Sater 297 

Siebe unb Segierbe 297 

©itte unb ©rbfje 297 

Die SLriebfcbern 297 

Sftaturforfdjer unb £ran*fcenbett* 

taumiti»tf)tn 297 

Deutfdjer ©entu* 298 

Steinigfeiten 298-299 

Deut|'d)tanb unb feme pr(ten 299 

Sin bie ^rofetsitenmadjer 299 

Da* 2krbittbung*mittet 299 

Der 3eitpunft 300 



VIII 



PAGE 

The Feast of Victory, ... 129 

Lament of Ceres, 134 

The Festival of Eleusis, . . 139 

Polycrates and his Ring, . . 146 

The Cranes of Ibycus, . . . 149 

Hero and Leander, .... 155 

Cassandra, 163 

The Hostage. (Damon and 

Phintias), 167 

The Diver, 172 

Knight Toggenburg, ... 178 

The Fight with the Diagon, . 180 

The Journey to the Forge, . 190 

The Count of Hapsburg, . . 197 

The Glove, 202 

The Veiled Statue at Sais, . 204 

The Partition of the Earth, . 207 

The Stranger Maiden, ... 208 

The Ideal'and Life, .... 209 

Parables and Piddles, ... 214 

The Walk, 221 

The Song of the Bell, ... 231 

The Might of Song, .... 244 

The Dignity of Woman, . . 246 

Hope, 249 

The German Muse, .... 250 

The Sower, 251 

The Merchant, 251 

Odysseus, 251 

Carthage, 252 

The Knights of St. John, . . 252 

German Faith, 253 

Columbus, ' 254 

Pompeii and Herculaneum, . 254 

The Iliad, 257 

Jove to Hercules, 257 

The Antique to the Northern 

Wanderer, 257 

The Bards of Olden Time, . 258 

The Antiques at Paris, . . . 259 

Thekla. A Spirit Voice, . . 280 

The Maid of Orleans, ... 260 

Nsenia, . 261 

The Playing Boy, 262 

The Sexes, 262 

The Power of Woman, . . . 264 

The Dance, 265 

Fortune, 266 



PAGE 

Genius, 270 

The Philosophical Egotist, . 273 

The Words of Faith, ... 274 

The Words of Error, ... 275 

Sayings of Confucius, . . . 276 

Light and Warmth, .... 277 

Rrearlth and Depth, .... 278 

The Guides of Life, .... 278 

Archimedes and the Student, 279 

Human Knowledge, .... 280 

The Two Paths of Virtue, . 280 

Honors, 280 

Zenith and Nadir, .... 281 

Ideal Freedom, 281 

The Child in the Cradle, . . 281 

The Unchangeable, .... 282 

Theophania 282 

The Highest, 282 

Immortality, 2S2 

Votive Tablets, . . . . 282-293 

The Best State Constitution, 293 

To Lawgivers, 294 

The Venerable, 294 

False Impulse to Study, . . 294 
The Fountain of Second 

Youth, .294 

The Circle of Nature, ... 294 

The Death-Genius 294 

The Virtue of Woman, . . 29o 

The Fairest Apparition, . . 295 

Forum of Woman, .... 295 

Woman's Judgment, . . . 295 

The Ideal of Woman, ... 295 

Anticipation and Reality, . 296 

The Common Fate, .... 296 

Human Action, 296 

The Father, 297 

Love and Desire, 297 

Goodness and Greatness, . . 297 

The Impulses, 297 

Naturalists and Transcenden- 
tal Philosophers, .... 297 

German Genius, 298 

Trifles, 298-299 

Germany and her Princes, . 299 

To Proselytizers, 299 

The Connecting Medium, . . 299 

The Period of Time, ... 300 
(21) 



IX 



£cttei £ette 

£eutu£e3 Sttftfoie! SOO'Sinem Jungen greuntt, oil er fid) 

33udjbant!er»-2lnjcige....» 300 ber 23eitrceiebett rcibmete. 317 

©efabrlidje sRa^foIge 300'?Pi>efte be3 £ebcn3 318 

@rie$bett 500 Sin ©oet^e, at* er ten 3Jiabemci 

SJk ©cnntagjf inter 301 j con Soltaire auf bit Siiljtte 

§te 3>i?tfefcpben 301 ! bradjte 319 

@. @ 304 Sin Eemcifeffc Slesrtftr 322 

£ie £<?meriben 304 Xtt griedufdje (genius an Sfteqer 

EecmcraUfcbeirt&ter 304 iR ^fallen 323 

£>er erbabene Stojf 305 Sinem greunbe ins (Htamm&ud) 323 

£)er Stunfrgriff 305 On bas gslic^SlawmfucQ tines 

Seremiabe 305 tfunftfreunbeS .- 324 

SBiffenftafit 306 3)a* Oefdjenf 324 

flantimt feine STu^Ieger 306 SBttydm £eff 324, 

Sbafefpearee <S$atten .306 Xem firbprin^en »on SEetmor, 

2>ie gliijTe 309-311 j aU er nad> fterfe reiete 325. 

£er 2ttetapbtmfer 311|2)er Slntritt be* neuen 3al!r= 



SitS5J£lr»ei|ien , 

g)egnfu6 im Sodje 

2)as Spiel be* £ebcn$. 



311 

old 



bunterts .- 326 

Sangero Slbfaieb 327 



gemele in |»ei <?cenen 



331 



IX 



PAGE 

German Comedy, 300 

Publisher's Notice, .... 300 

Dangerous Consequence, . . 300 

Grsecomania, 300 

The Sunday Children, ... 301 

The Philosophers, . . . . 301 

G. G, 304 

The Homerides 304 

The Moral Poet, 304 

The Sublime Subject, ... 305 

The Artifice . 305 

Jeremiads, 305 

Science, 306 

Kant and his Commentators, 306 

Shakespeare's Shade, ... 306 

The Rivers, 309-311 

The Metaphysician, .... 311 

The Philosophers, .... 311 

Pegasus in the Yoke, . . . 313 

The Puppet-Show of Life, . 316 



To a Young Friend devoting 
himself to Philosophy, . . 

The Poetry of Life, . . . . 

To Goethe. On his producing 
Voltaire's Mohammed on 
the Stage, 

To Miss Slevoigt, 

Grecian Genius. To Meyer 
in Italy, 

Verses written in the Album 
of a Friend, 

Verses written in the Folio- 
Album of a learned Friend, 



317 
318 



319 



323 



323 



324 



The Present, 324 

William Tell, 324 

To the Hereditary Prince of 
Weimar, on his proceeding 

to Paris, 325 

The Commencement of the 

New Century, 326' 

Farewell to the Eeader, . . 327 



Semele, in two Scenes, 
Notes and Appendix, 



331 
357 



<23) 



THnd)xid)lm 

ten 

©cfjtllerg £eSen. 



$ux tie 3u»erIafftgTeit biefer 9?a$ri$ten ^urgt ber SfypeflationS* 
rati) Corner in £>re$ben al3 iljr SSerfaffer. (Beit bem Saljre 
1785 get;orte cr ju SdjtflerS sevtrauteften $veunben unb ttmrbe »on 
meljmn §)erfonen, bie mit bem S3erer»igten in genauejler 33evbin* 
bung getoefen waren, bur$ fd)d^bare S3ettrcigc unterjlit^t. 9?id)t 
ber fteinfte Umfknb ifl in btcfe £er3en$befct)reir)ung aufgenommen 
tt>ovben, ber nt$t auf ©emitters eigene Sle^erungen ober auf gkub* 
ttiirbige 3eugni([e jt$ gritnbet, 3u kmerfen i% baf fte im 3a§re 
1812 fcerfajjt worben fmb. 



MEMOIR 



OF 



SCHILLER'S LIFE. 



Koeener, the Appellationsrath (Counsellor of the 
Court of Appeals), the compiler of the following sketch, 
vouches for its authenticity. He was one of Schiller's 
oldest and dearest friends. Their intimacy began in 1785, 
and continued until death. In the preparation of this 
Memoir, which was indeed a labor of love, he was gener- 
ously assisted by valuable contributions from a number 
of persons, who had been on terms of the greatest inti- 
macy with the immortal Bard. Not the slightest circum- 
stance has been embodied in this biography, which was 
not founded either on Schiller's own declarations, or on 
the testimony of credible witnesses. It is worthy of notice 
that this Memoir was written in 1812. 



(x) (25) 



SMe <2ttte unb £enfart be3 &aterlt#en £aufc3, tn toelcftem 
©c&ttter bte 3abre fetner £tnbbett serlebte, tear ntdjit Begunjrt- 
genb fiir bte frubjettige Sntotcfehmg sorbartbetter gafjigfetten, 
aber fiir bie ©efunbbeit ber Seele sen toobjrfyattgem (Stnfluffc. 
(Stnfacb, unb ofjne isielfctttgc 9Iucb;Ibung, aber fraftsett, gettanbt 
unb tyattg fiir bay prafttfc^e Seben, bteber unb fromm tear ber 
SSater. 2113 SBunbarjt gtttg er tm 3at)re 1745 nttt einem bayt* 
rifc^en #ufaren=9£egtmente nacb, ben ^teberianben, unb ber 
Sftangel an fytnlangltc&er SBefcbafttgung seranla^te tbn, bet bent 
bamaligen &rtege ftefc. a(3 Unterofftcter gebraucben ju laifen, 
&enn fletne domntanbo'3 auf Unternefytnungen au3gefcbtcft 
iourben. 9113 nacfj Slbfc&lujj be3 Shiner griebenS ein Xtytil 
be3 SftegtmentS, bet bent er btente, entlaijen rourbe, febjte er m 
fetn 23aterlanb, ba3 $cr$ogr§um ©ttrttemberg, juriicf, ertjtelt 
bcrt Shtftettung unb roartnt 3<xbre 1757 gabnrtcb, unb Slbjutant 
bet bent batnaltgen 9tegtmettte $rittj 2 o u 1 3. Ties Regiment 
gefjb'rte ju etnem roiirttembergt[cben £tIfocori>3, ba3 tn etntgen 
gelbjiigen be3 ftebenjabrtgen £rtege3 etnen Sbetl ber b'fterretcb> 
feben Slrntee au3macbte. 3n SSo^men erfnelt btefeS Sorp3 etnen 
bebeutenben S?erlujl burcb, etne tyefttge anftecfenbe ^ranfyett, 
aber (skitters SSater erbtelt ftd) burcb SDIaptgfeit unb stele 23e- 
toegung gefunb, unb iiberna^m tn btefent gatte ber Sftoty jebe3 
erfcrberltcbe ®efcbaft, rorju er gebrauct>t tterben fennte. Gnr 
beforgte bte fixanftn, al3 e3 an SBmtbargten feblte, unb sertrat 
bte ©telle be3 ©etftltcfyen bet bem ©otte»btenfte bc3 9tegtment3 
burcb, 3?orIefung etntger ©cbete unb Settling be» ®efang$. 

©ett bent Sabre 1759 jianb er bet etnem anbern toiirttem- 
bergtfeben Sorp3 in £efiett unb X^uringen unb &emt$te jebe 
©tunbe ber fSKujje, urn burcb. etgeneS Stubtum, otyne frembe 
SBetyulfe, nacbjub^Ien, roa3 tf>m in friiberen Sabren, toegen 
ungiinfrtger Umftaube, nic^t gele&rt roorben roar* SRatyematif 

(XI) 



*The social customs and the modes of thinking ^ 
in the house of Schiller's father, where the poet *• 
spent the days of his childhood, were unfavorable to the 
early development of his mind, which already bore the 
stamp of Genius ; they exerted, however, a beneficial in- 
fluence in the formation of his character as a man. His 
father's manners were plain and unassuming, his acquire- 
ments in knowledge limited; in practical life, he was 
full of vigor, apt and active, and, in all respects, an 
honest and pious man. In 1745, he went to the Nether- 
lands, as surgeon in a Bavarian regiment of Hussars, and 
lack of sufficient occupation induced him to become a 
subordinate oflieer in the war, when small detachments 
were sent out upon any expedition. After the Peace 
of Aix-la-Chapelle, when a part of the regiment, with 
which he had served, was disbanded, he returned to his 
native state, the Duchy of Wiirtemberg. He received 
an appointment there, and held, in 1757, a commission of 
ensign and adjutant in the regiment Prince Louis. This 
regiment belonged to one of the Wiirtemberg Reserve 
Corps, and formed part of the Austrian army during a few 
campaigns of the Seven Years' War. This Corps met 
with a heavy loss in Bohemia, in consequence of a severe 
contagious disease, but Schiller's father, by temperance 
and a great amount of exercise, succeeded in maintain- 
ing good health. In these times of danger and need, he 
performed his duty nobly, offering himself in any capacity 
where his services might be of use. When there was a 
lack of surgeons, he attended the sick, officiating also as 
chaplain of the regiment, by reading prayers and leading 
in song. 

(XI) (27) 



XII 



unb ^TbtlricsHe Betrtcb er nut Sifer, unb Ianbtrirtbfcbaftlicbe 
Sefcbaftigungen batten ba&ri fur ibn einen oor^iiglicben Retj. 
Sine Saumfcbule, tie er in Sutroig^burg anle:te, too er nad^ 
beentigrem iiriege ale £aurtmann tm Qitartirr rear, batte ben 
glticflicbftcn Srfolg. Ties oeranla§te ben t.mtaligcn £er*cg 
boil ©itntemberg, fljnt tie Sutfftdjr iiber tine grb§ere SlnftaU 
biefer 2lrt ju iibertragen, tie auf ber Soiitute, einem ber^eg* 
licben Sujifcblcjfe, roar emebtet roorben. 3n biefer SteUung 
befriebigte er oollfcmmen tie son ibnn gebegten Srroartungen, 
roar ge[dja£t bon fetnem giirften unb geadptet son Men, tie ibn 
fannten, erretcbte em bzhz? Sllter, unb l?atte nccb bte ^reube, 
ben 9hif»m femes SobneS nt erleben. lleber btefen 2cbn ftnbel 
flcb felgenbe Stetle in einem noc$ oorfjanbenen eigenbanbigen 
Slufi'afe be» SSaterSj 

„Hni bit, ©efen aCIer 2Befrn! Ti<$ ^ab' tcb nacb bet 
„©eburt metnec ein^igen Sobne5 gebeten, bag bu bemfelben 
„an ©eifteeftarfe utlegen mb'cbtert, load id) auc ???angel an 
„ltriterricbt nicbt erreicben fennte, unb bu baft micb erbcrt. 
„S}an! btr, sutfgjfes 2Befen, bag bu auf tie Sttten ber 
„2terblicben acbteft!— " 

<5dn'iier3 Gutter roirb son juoerlafftgen ^erjonen at* einc 
arJcrucbelcfe, aber oerfrantige unb gurmutbtge f)audfrait be- 
febrieben. ©atten unb Winter liebte fie jartltd^, unb bte 3nnigfeit 
ibre5 ®efiib!§ macbte fie ibrem Sofme feb;r roern). 3 um ^ e,en 
barre ite roenig 3^it, aber U$ unb ©ellert toaren if>r lieb, 
6efonber3 ale geiftlicbe Xtcbtcr. — -2?cn folcben Sltern rourbe 
3obann GTbrtfroobgrietrtcb 3 cb i Her am 10. 9Jo- 
oember 1759 m ???arbacb, einem ioitrttembergifeben Stattcben 
am SVedar, gebcren. (rinjelne 3 u 9 e ' ^ cren man "* au - letnert 
l erinnert, ttaren Seroeife son £}eicbb;eit beg 
^ergend, 9teltgfofItat unb frrenger ©eroiifenbaftigfeit. Xen 
erfrcrt tlnterricbt erbteit er sen bem ^farrer 5ft of er in Sercfc, 
einem roitrttembergifeben ©ren$borfe, too @>djtffer$ Ghent sen 
1765 an trei 3abre Iang ficb aufbielten. X"er Sobn bicfe3 
©et'liicben, ein nacbberiger ^rebiger, roar Scbiilerc enter 3tt- 
gentfreunb, unb tteS errcecfre bet ibm roabncbemlic^er 2£ti\t 
tie nac^erige 2?eigung jum geifrlidpen Staute, 



xir 

From 1759 he was attached to another corps from 
Wiirtemberg, stationed in Hesse and Thuringia. We 
now find him taking advantage of every leisure mo- 
ment to remedy the neglect of his education, which had 
followed as the result of unfavorable circumstances. He 
devoted himself assiduously to study, relying entirely 
upon his own exertions. *He was a diligent stu- 
L XI1 -' dent of mathematics and philosophy, and had a 
special fondness for rural pursuits. His efforts in laying 
out a nursery in Ludwigsburg, where he was quartered 
after the termination of the war, with the advanced rank 
of captain, were rewarded with great success. This cir- 
cumstance induced the Duke of Wiirtemberg to intrust 
a larger establishment of this kind to his care, which had 
been erected at Solitude, the Duke's pleasure-grounds. 
He filled this position to the entire satisfaction of a master, 
who well knew how to appreciate his services, had the 
unbounded respect of all who knew him, reached a good 
old age, and was granted the pleasure of seeing the laurel 
wreath rest upon the brow of his son. The following 
prayer relating to this son, in the father's own hand- 
writing, is still preserved : 

"Great Lord of the universe! I fervently prayed to 
Thee at the birth of my only son, that Thou wouldst 
grant to him, in strength of mind, what, from want of 
instruction, I was unable to supply, and Thou hast heard 
my prayer ! Thanks to Thee, Oh Lord, for hearkening 
to the prayer of a mortal !" — 

Schiller's mother is described, by competent persons, as 
having been an unpretending, but sensible and good-na- 
tured woman, possessing many household virtues. She 
loved her husband and children tenderly, and her kindness 
and tenderness of feeling peculiarly endeared her to her son. 
She had little time to devote to reading, but was an admirer 
of Utz and G-ellert, especially as religious poets. Such were 
the parents of Johann CJwistoph Friedrich Schiller, born on 
the 10th of November, 1759, in Marbach, a small town 

(29) 



XIII 

£te ©djtiTetfctje %ami\it jog im 3at)re 1768 rotefcer naclj 
Subaiggburg. £ort fat) ber neunjd'tjrige &nabe mm erftenmal 
cm Sweater, unb gtoar etn fo glangenbeg, tote eg bte $ract)t beg 
$ofeg wnter beg £erjogg $arl S^egternng erforberte* £)ie 
SBtrhmg tear macbttg; eg eroffnete fid? ifym tint neue 2QeIt, 
auf bte ftct) afle feme jugenblidjen Sptele bejogen, unb Platte 
m £rauerfptelen befefjaftigten tim fcfyon bamalg, aber feme 
Sftetgung mm getfrltct)en ©tanbe oerminberte ficr) nityt. 

33ig mm 3at)r 1773 ertjielt er femert Unterrictjt in einer 
bffentttcr)en groperrt (Sct)ule m Subrotggburg, unb auf btefe gut 
ermnert ftct) em bamaltger 93?ttj"cf)iiler fetner 5ftunterfett, fetner 
oft mutfyrottltgen Saune unb ^eeffyeit, aber auct) fetner ebeln 
Denfart unb femes gletjjeS. £fe guten 3eugntffe fetner Sefyrer 
madjten ben regterenben £er$og auf tt)n aufmerffam, ber ba- 
malg efne neue Srjtetmngganftait mtt grofjem Stfer errtctjtete, 
unb unter ben ©b'fmen fetner Dfjtctere 3ogltnge bafiir au^fuc^te, 

5Dte 2lufhat)me in btefeg 3nftttut, bte mttttartfctje ^flanjfct)ule 
auf bem 2njtfct)ioffe ©olttube unb nacrjrjertge &arlg[ct)ule m 
(Stuttgart, roar etne ©nabe beg giirften, beren 5tbtet)nung fiir 
©dnflerS 3Sater afterbtngg bebenfltct) fetn mufste* ©letcbroof)t 
erb'ffnete fctefer bem |)erjoge fretmittfyig bte 2lbficr)t, fctnen ©otm 
etnem ©tanbe m rotbmen, m roetcfjem er bet ber neuen S3tl- 
bungganftait ntct)t oorberettet roerben fonnte. T)tx ^erjog roar 
ntdjt beletbtgt, aber oerlangte bte 23at)l etneg anbern ©tu* 
biumS. £)te 25erlegenbett roar grofi in ©d&illerS ^amilte; it)m 
felbft foftete eg otel Uebertombung, feme 9frtgung ben Sertyalt- 
ntffen femes SSaterS aufmopfern, aber enbltct) entj'ctn'eb er ftct) 
fiir ba3 jurtftifdje g-adj unb rourbe im 3at)re 1773 in bag neue 
Snftttut aufgenommen. 5^0^ im folgenben 3abre, ati j'eber 
3ogItng fetne etgene £r;arafter-©ct)tlbenmg auffe^en mu£te, 
roagte ©duller bag ®eftanbnt§ : 

„bafi er ftct; roett gliicfltdier fcr)a£en roiirbe, roenu er bem 
„$aterlanbe alg ®ottegge(et)rter btenen fb'nnte/' 
Slucb ergriff er tm 3at)r 1775 etne ©elegentjeit, roentgfreng bag 
jmrifttjdje ©tubtum, bag fiir itm ntcl)tg 2lnjtet)enbeg t;atte, auf- 
mgeben. (Sg roar bet bem Snftttute eine neue Sebranfralt fiir 
funfttge Slcrjte errtc^tet roorbenj ber ^erjog (tep imm 3bg- 



XIII 

of "Wurtemberg, situated on the banks of the Neckar. 
Certain features of Schiller's character, remembered from 
his earliest childhood, give evidence of tenderness of 
heart, deep pious feeling, and conscientiousness. He re- 
ceived his first instructions from Pastor Moser, in Lorch, 
a village on the borders of Wurtemberg, where his 
parents resided for three years from 1765. The son of 
this divine, himself afterwards a preacher, was the first 
friend of Schiller's youth, and it is supposed that it was 
he who suggested to him the idea of consecrating himself 
to the clerical profession. 

*In 1768 Sehiller's family returned to Lud- ^ .. 
wigsburg. It was here, in his ninth year, that 
he saw a theatre for the first time, and the spectacle was 
as gorgeous as the luxury and grandeur of the Court, 
under Duke Karl, could make it. It made a powerful 
impression upon him : thenceforward a new world was 
opened to him, it gave tone to all his youthful plays. 
Already he began to meditate the scheme of some elabo- 
rate tragedy, yet his inclinations for the ministry in no 
wise diminished. 

Until 1773 he attended a higher public school at Lud- 
wigsburg, and a schoolmate of his at the time, now recol- 
lects his gayety, mischievous freaks, and daring, but also 
his noble and generous way of thinking, as well as his in- 
dustry. The recommendations of his teachers drew to 
him the attention of the reigning Duke, then busily en- 
gaged in founding a Fxee Seminary, and looking around 
among the sons of hls~lhllitary~o"2icers for scholars, in- 
tending to give them a preferable claim to its benefits. 

To be received into this institution, the Military Semi- 
nary first at Solitude, one of the Duke's country residences, 
afterwards transferred to Stuttgard, under the name of 
Karls-Schule, was a royal favor, which must certainly 
have been a delicate matter for Schiller's father to refuse. 
He nevertheless frankly represented to his prince, that 
he had determined, in obedience to the wishes of his son, 

(31) 



XIV 

Imge bte SBa% son biefer Slnftaft ©ebraudj ju nta$en, unb 
©fitter bertu^te btefe Slujforbenmg, 

5luf ber 5?arlgfdmle toar t&, too feme fritfyefkn ®ebu$te ent* 
fianben, (£in SSerfudj, bag (Stgentfyitmltdje biefer ^robucte au$ 
bamaltgen aujjern Urfac^en sollftanbtg ju erfldren, todre em 
ttergebltdjeg 23entiil)en. 33on bent, toaS bte Sfttctjtung etneg [el- 
even ©etfteg befttmntte, blteb natitrltc^er SBetfe 33teleg »er- 
borgen, unb nur folgenbe befannt getoorbene Untfrdnbe tterbtenen 
tit btefer Stticf jtc^t fcemerft ju toerben. 

Deutfd&e T)t$ter m lefen, gab eg auf ber $arlgf$ule, ffl tote 
auf ben ntetften bamaltgen Unterrtcfytganfralten tn £eutf$lanb, 
toem'g ©elegenfyett. (Skitter blteb bafyer nocb unbefannt nttt 
etnem grofjen Stjetl ber saterldnbtfcben Siteratur; aber befro 
scrrrautcr tourbe er nttt ben 3Berfen etntger Steblmge. 5Uop=» 
ftocf, Ulj, Sefftng, ©oetfye unb »on ©erftenberg toa* 
ren bte g-reunbe fetner Suge'nb* 

2luf bent beutfetjen $arna|3 begann bantalg tin neueg Men* 
3)te beften $b>fe emporten ji# gegen ben £)egpottgmug ber 
9JJobe unb gegen bag ©treben itad) falter (Sleganj. frrdfttge 
£ar{iellung ber Setbenf^aft unb beg Sljarafterg, ttefe SBItrfe in 
bag 3nnere ber ©eele, Keid&tfyum ber 5tyantafte unb ber ©pradje 
fottten altetn ben SBertf) beg £t$terg begrimben* Unabfydngtg 
son alien dupem Umgebungen, fottte er alg em SBefen aug 
enter fyfytm SBctt erftfjemen, unbefimtmert, ob er fritter ober 
fpdter bet fetnen 3«tgeno|fen etne toitrbtge Slufnafyme ftnben 
toerbe. 9?t$t burdj fremben ©tnflujj, fonbern aHetn bur$ ftc^ 
felbji foUte bte beutfdje •Dic&thmji ft$ aug tf)rem Snnern ent- 
ttnefem. Setfptele etner folcfyen 3>nfart ntu^ten etnen Sitrtg- 
ling »on ©dnflerg Slnlagen mdcfyttg ergretfen. £af)er befonberg 
feme SSegctjlerung fitr ©oetfyeg ®i>$ son 23erltd)mgen unb 
®erftenbergg Ugolmo. ©pater tourbe er auf <Sf)af ef pear e 
aufmerffam gemaifcr, unb bteg gefc^afy burc$ fetnen bamaltgen 
£efyrer, ben je^tgen $rdlaten Slbel m ©d)b'ntf)al, ber itber- 
tjaupt ftc^ urn itm mel)rere SSerbtenfte ertoarb, TO bent Die- 
ter ©d^ubart toar ©filler m fetner toettern S3erbmbung, alg 
ba^ er t^n etnntal auf ber geftung ^otjenafperg, aug S^etlne^- 
mung an fetnem ©$icffa(e, befu4)te» 



XIV 

in favor of the church, a project with which this new one 
was inconsistent. The Duke was not offended, but still 
demanded that he should devote himself to another pro- 
fession. G-reat was the embarrassment in Schiller's family ; 
and it was only the fear of royal disfavor, that, with 
great reluctance, he at last sacrificed his own wishes to the 
interests of those dearest to him, who were, in a certain 
sense, dependent upon the Duke, whose word, in reality, 
was law. He entered the Academy in 1773, and turned, 
with a heavy heart, to the study of law. 

Schiller made no secret of his feelings ; in the following 
year, when according to the rules prescribed by the school, 
each pupil was obliged to write an analysis of his own 
character, he ventured to make the following acknowledg- 
ment in public: 

" I would feel much happier if I could serve my God 
and my country as a preacher." 

In 1775 he took advantage of the opportunity that pre- 
sented itself, to relinquish the study of law, which had 
no attraction for him whatever. A new department, for 

• the study of medicine, was added to the academi- 
r*xivl 
L J cal studies ; each *pupil was allowed by the Duke 

to make use of this new institution, and Schiller imme- 
diately accepted the only alternative which had yet pre- 
sented itself. 

His earliest poems were composed at the Karls- Schule. 
An attempt to explain fully the peculiarities of these pro- 
ductions, by surrounding circumstances, would be a fruit- 
less task. Of the motives which determined the course 
of such a mind, many remained hidden ; and only the 
following well-authenticated circumstances deserve to be 
noticed in this connection. 

The opportunity offered in the Karls-Schule to read the 
German Poets was slight indeed, as was also the case in 
most of the institutions of learning, of the period, through- 
out Germany. Schiller, therefore, remained for sometime 
unacquainted with a great part of his country's literature ; 
3 . (32) 



XV 



(Sin epffdieS ®ebt<$t, 5D? o f t8, gebb'rt jn ©critters frufjejlen 
SSerfudjen »om 3a^r 1773, unb ntd)t lange nad^er entftanb 
fern erfteg Srauerfptel : S o 8 m u 3 son 3D? e b i c i 8, im ©tojfe 
a'bnltd) mtt Set fete ij?eng 3u(tu3 &on parent Smjelite 
(Steften biefeg <Stitd3 [tub [pater in bie dauber aufgenommen 
roorben; obcr aufjerbem ^at fid; son (SdjtderS $robucten au3 
bem 3«traume sor 1780 nid)t3 er^altcxt, alS rocntge ©ebidjte, 
bte fid) tm fd)ioabi[d)en SWagajm finben. ©filler befc^afttgte 
ftcfc bamals au3 et'gencm Slntriebe nic$t b!o§ mtt Sefung bcr 
Dicbfer; and) $(utard)3 23iograpbien, Berbers ttnb ©awenS 
<5d)riften roaren fiir tfytt befonberS anjtefyenb, unb e3 serbtent 
bemerft %vt roerben, ba§ er torjitglt^ in 2 u 1 1) e r 8 SBiSctuber- 
fe$ung bte beutfd;e (2prad)e jrubterte. 

9)?ebtctn trieb er mtt Srnjr, unb, urn tf)r jroet 3abre au3- 
fdjltej^enb ju roibmen, entfagte er roafyrenb btefer $tit alien 
poettfeben Slrbetten. &r febrteb bantalS erne 2lb(>anblung unter 
bem SEttel: ^^tlofop^te ber ^J^^fiologte. ©tefe 
(Shrift rourbe nadjfyer latetnifeb Pen ifym auggeavbeitet unb fct= 
nen 25oraefeijten tm 9J?anu[cripte sorgelegt, erfdnen aber ntcbt 
tm Drude. Vlatf) beenbigtem Surfug pertfyeibigte er tm Satyr 
1780 etne anbere ^roBefc^rtftj It e ber ben 3ufammen- 
fyang ber tfjtertfc^en 9?atur be£ 5D?enf(|en mtt 
feiner geiftigen. £er (Srfolg bason roar etne balbige 
Slnjlettung aU 3fagiment3*3ftebicu8 bet bem ^Regtmente Singe, 
unb feine 3ettgenoJTen betyaupten, bag er jtcb al8 prafti[d)er2Ir$t 
burcb ©etji unb Siibntyeit, aber ntctyt in gletdjem ©rabe burdj 
©Hid au8gejei#net tyabt. 

yiadi Slblauf ber Qdt, in ber trm etn frrenge8 ©elitbbe pon 
ber gjocjte entfernte, fetyrte er mtt erueuerter Stebe jn ifyr juritd. 
3Me dauber nnb mebrere etnjefae ©ebictyte, bie er furj 
nad)f)er, nebfl ben $robucten etntger greunbe, unter bem Site! 
enter $lntf>ologie §erau8gab, entftanben in ben 3at)ren 1780 
unb 1781, roeidie ju ben entfctyetbenbfien feine8 &bm$ gebb'rtem 

ftiir bie 9tau6er fanb (gcbtder feinen Serleger, unb mu§te 
ben £rnd auf eigene Soften seranftalten. £efto erfreulidjer 
roar tym ber erfic §3eieei8 etner $laerfennung tm Slu^Ianbe, ate 



XV 

but became, for this very reason, the more familiar with 
the works of certain favorites. 

Klopsiock, Viz, Lessing, Goethe, and von Gerstenberg, 
were the friends of his youth. 

A new life now began upon the German Parnassus. 
The greatest minds revolted against the fashion of the 
times, and against striving after cold elegance — the Gal- 
lomania which had taken so strong a hold upon the Ger- 
mans. Forcible representations of the passions and of 
character, deep glances into the inmost recesses of the 
soul, richness of phantasy and of language should alone 
found the poet's worth. Independent of all that surrounds 
him, he should appear as a being from a higher sphere, 
unconcerned if he find, sooner or later, a worthy recep- 
tion at the hands of his contemporaries. Not through 
foreign influence, but alone through itself, should German 
Poetry develop itself from within itself. The examples 
of such a way of thinking, must have exerted a power- 
ful effect upon a youth of Schiller's distinguished talents. 
This accounts for his especial enthusiasm for Goethe's Gotz 
von Berlichingen and von Gcrstenberg's Ugolino. Later, his 
attention was directed to Shakspeare by his teacher, the 
present prelate Abel, in Schoenthal, who seems to have 
taken a deep interest in his welfare. The only connection 
Schiller had with Schubert, the poet, was, that, out of 
sympathy for his great misfortunes, he once paid him a 
visit in the Fortress Hohenasperg, where Schubert was 
confined. 

*An epic poem, Moses, was one of Schiller's 
earliest efforts in 1773, and shortly after he pro- *- J 
duced his first tragedy, Cosmo von Medicis, the subject of 
which is similar to the Julius von Tarent, of Leisewitz. 
Some fragments of this piece he afterwards inserted in his 
Robbers ; but besides these (if we except a few poems to be 
found in the Suabian Magazine), none of Schiller's produc- 
tions, of the period before 1780, have survived. Ax, this 
time, Schiller, stimulated by his own inclinations, applied 

33) 



XYI 

ft it fd»on tm Sft^r 1781 ber £ef=5!ammerrafb unb Sucf&anblet 
© d> to a n in 9J?annbeuu jtt einer Umarbettuug btefeS ©erfg 
fitr He bortige ^Biibne aufforberte. Stitctt abnltdicn SIntrag, 
ber jugletdj auf funfttge bramattfc*fe *Probucte gertcfytet roar, 
erl;tclt er furj barauf son bem Director beS 3D?ann^etmcr £bea=* 
terS fel&fr, bem greiherm oon T alb erg. 2Ba3 Skitter 
Ijierauf crrotberte, tjt nod) ocrbanbeu, unb t$ ergtbt fi$ barau$, 
rote ftreng er (Id) felbjt bcurtbetlte, unb rote letdjt er in jebe SIB- 
dnberung rotfttgte, son bcrcn 9iotbroenbtgfeit man tbn itbcrjeugte, 
aber rote ioentg audi piefe ©tllfabrtgfett in Sdblafffyeit au&» 
artete, unb rote nacbbritdltdj er in rocfentltcoett gjunften, fctbjt 
gegen emeu Sftann, ben er f>od)[d)dt?te, bte 0£ecbte feineS 2Berf3 
oertbetbtgte. 

£)te fcbrtfiltcben 3?err)anfclungen enbfgten ftdj ju Betberfctttger 
3ttfrtebenbett, unb bte dauber rourben tm 3anuar 1782 tn 
v ???anubet'm aufaefuljrt. 33et biefer unb ber jioetten Slupfy- 
rung tm 5J?at eben biefeS 5a|re$ roar Scbttter gegenrodrttg, 
aber bte SReife nad) 3ftatm$eim t)atte fmrnltd) gefcbeben miifjen, 
unb Mteb nify oerborgen. d£.hx otergebyittvtgtger Strrejt roar bte 
Strafe. 

3u eben btefer 3«t rourbe Sdnttent burcB etnen anbern Um- 
ftanb fetn Slufentbalt tn Stuttgart nod) mebr oeroittert. Sine 
©telle tn ben 9ftuibern, rooburcb, jtdj bte ©taubihtbtner beteibtgt 
fanben, seranlafjte etne Sefcpfcerbe, unb ber £er;og oerbot 
Sauilent, au§er bem mebtctntfcben gadie trgenb etroaS brucfeit 
&u lajTen. Tie* roar fitr tbn etne bejro britdenbere Sefcbran* 
fung, je gitnfttgere 2lu»jtcbten ftcb tym burd) ben g(udltd)en (Er- 
folg feineS erftett Srauerfpiete eroffnetcn. 2Iudj f)atte er jt$ mtt 
bem ^rcfeffer Sib el unb bem 33toliotf>efar gjeterfen tn 
Stuttgart oeretnigt, urn etne 3ett'icbrift unter bem Stteh 
S>urttembergif$e8 Sftep ertorium ber Stteratur 
beratt^ugeben, ju beren erften Stiiden er etntge Sluffafce, ate: 
itber bad gegenrod'rttge beutfdie Sweater; ber 
Spajtergang unter ben Stnben; etne grc&mutfyigc 
£anb(ung aus ber neueften (SJefcMdjte, unb oerfdne- 
bene iRecenftonen, oor^iigltcb etne febr jlrenge unb ait?fur)rltc|>c 
itber bte 9laufcer, lieferte. Subejfen gab e* nod? etnen StuSioeg, 



XVI 

himself not alone to reading the poets, but to Plutarch's 
Biographies. Herder's and Garve's writings seemed also 
to have had an especial attraction for him. It is deserv- 
ing of notice, that he studied the German language prin- 
cipally from Luther's translation of the Bible. 

He devoted himself to his medical studies with, rigid 
fidelity, and abstained, for the space of two years, from 
all poetical labor, that he' might give his* entire attention 
to medicine. He wrote a dissertation, entitled The Phi- 
losophy of Physiology. This pamphlet afterwards appeared 
in Latin, and was submitted by him to his superiors in 
manuscript, but never published. In 1780, after the ex- 
piration of the term, he f defended another essay, entitled, 
The Connection between the Animal and the Spiritual Na- 
ture of Man. His success was such, that he was shortly 
after appointed surgeon to the regiment Auge, and his 
contemporaries assert that, as a practical physician, he 
was distinguished for his spirit and boldness, but was not 
in the same degree successful. 

After the expiration of the allotted time, during which 
a strict vow had separated him from his idol, poetry, he 
now returned to it, with a love that had much increased 
in intensity. The Robbers, with many lyrics and minor 
poems, which he published a short time after, together 
with the contributions of several friends, in a miscellany 
entitled The Anthology, were all composed during 1780 and 
1781, the most eventful years of his life. 

Schiller was unable to find a publisher for his Robbers, 
and was, therefore, obliged to bring it out at his own 
cost. The more satisfactory to him, therefore, was the 
first proof of genuine recognition received from abroad, 
when ^already, in 1781, the Hof-Kammerrath 
(Counsellor of the Exchequer), and book pub- 
lisher, Schwan, in Mannheim, authorized him to remodel 
the work for the stage. A similar proposition, also hrv- 



f The Theses peculiar to German Universities.— Ed. 

(34) 



XYII 

urn fencS 5?erBot ritdfgangtg m ma^en, room after (Sdutfcr ftdj 
nidit entfcbliepen Fonnte, 

3n [patent Sabren erjafytte er felbjr, tote etit gTaubrottrbiger 
9tan be^eugt, ba§ e3 nid)t [cine SBefdjafttgung mtt *Foefte itber* 
Ijmupt, [onbern [etne befonbcrc SXrt m bitten tear, roaS bamatS 
tie ttnmfriebenf)eit beg £cr$cg3 erregte. Site cm steifeittg ge* 
biibeter gitrji adrtete ber £crjog jebe (Sathmg son $unjr unb 
batte gem gefeften, ba§ and? cm borjugltrfjer X^tc^jter auS ber 
£arlg[dmle fyersorgegangen roare. SIber m S duller* ^robuc* 
tert [anb cr ^auftge 93erfib'|je gegen ben bcjfem ®efdunacf. 
©leic$ttot)l gab er tbn nmjt auf, Iie§ tbn iu'elmefyr m ft# font* 
men, roarute ttm auf etne s>aterlit$e 3lrt, roobet (Skitter md)t 
ungeritbrt bleiben fonnte, unb.serlangte blo§, ba§ er ifjm alle 
feme poettfdjen sprobucte jetgen [ottte, £te3 emmgefyen, roar 
(Sdjiitlern unmoglt^j, nub \tint SDetgerung rourbe natitrlidjer 
©ct[e nicfyt root)l aufgenommen. S3 [d>eint jcbodj, baf bet bent 
^erjoge au$ nacbber no$ em getotjfeS 3nteref[e fixr Sdullem 
ttbrig blieb. SBenigjreng rourben feme jrrengen SOcapregeln 
gegen flfm gebraucbt, aU cr [pater ftd) bemtlid) son (Stuttgart 
entfernte, nnb btefer Sdnrttt fyatte fiir [einen SSater feme nad)* 
tfyeiligen gotgen. 3lud) burfte Skitter nad^er tm Safyre 1793, 
ati ber £erjog nod) lebte, cine Jfteife in [etn SSaterlanb unb ju 
fetnen Sttern roagen, ofyne ba$ bieje 3u(ammenmnft auf irgenb 
cine 2Jrt geftort rourbe. 

£ie 2Iuffitr>rung ber dauber m ^ann^etm, too btc (Sd)au« 
[pielhmft bamals auf enter t)or)ert Stufe ftanb, unb befonberS 
3fflanb3 £arjMung be3 granj 9Jccor, fcatte auf (Sdnttern 
begeifternb getoirfr. (Seine borttge 5lufnat)inc serfpracfc tt)m 
tin (clones poetifdjeS &bm, beffen dtti\ er ntd)t roiberfreben 
fonnte. 5lber gieid£jrDot)l toimfdite er Stuttgart nur mtt £r- 
kubntjj be3 £er$og3 m »erlaj|ert. Biefe (Srlaubnip bjoffte er 
burd) ben greiberrn son T)aib erg au3mtoirfen, unb [einc 
Srtcfe an ttm enttjatten mefyrmaltge brtngenbe ®efud)e urn etne 
fold>e SSer»enbung. Slber e3 molten Scbroierigfeiten etntre* 
ten, [eine Sttte m crfittten; \tint llitgcbulb roud)3, er entfd)(ofj 
ftt^ jur ghidu unb rod'fylte bam ben 3eitpunft tm Dftober 1782, 
ba in Stuttgart atte3 mtt ben Octcrli^fciten be[$aftigt roar, btc 

<5$>\ttir$ fammtl. 2Der!c. L II 



XVII 

ing relation to future dramatic productions,. he received 
shortly after from Freiherr von Dalberg, the superin- 
tendent of the theatre at Mannheim. Schiller's answer 
is still preserved, and from it we glean how sharply he 
judged himself; how readily he acquiesced in any al- 
teration, when convinced of its necessity; how little this 
willing spirit to oblige degenerated into laxity; and how 
forcibly and persistently he defended the rights of his 
works, in what he considered their essential parts, even 
against a man whom he esteemed so highly. 

The written negotiations were concluded to their mutual 
satisfaction, and, on the 13th of January, 1782, The Rob- 
bers appeared on the stage at Mannheim. Schiller was 
present at this representation, and also at the second one 
given in the following May, but the journey to Mannheim 
had to be made by stealth, and was soon detected. He 
was placed for fourteen days under arrest as a punishment. 

Just at this time, another circumstance helped to make 
Schiller's sojourn in Stuttgard almost insufferable. Some 
expressions in The Robbers, at which the Grisons felt 
highly offended, caused a complaint to be entered against 
him, whereupon the Duke forbade him to publish any- 
thing not relating to the medical profession. This re- 
striction was indeed a sad blow to Schiller, the more severe, 
since the happy results of his first tragedy had so bright- 
ened his future prospects. He had united himself with 
Prof. Abel and the Librarian Peterson, in Stuttgard, with 
a view of publishing a periodical entitled The Repertory 
of Literature for Wurtemberg. Among the first contribu- 
tions, he furnished several articles like : On the Present 
German Theatre ; The Walk under the Lindens ; A Gener- 
ous Act taken from Recent Events, besides many reviews, 
especially a very severe and detailed criticism on the 
Robbers. 

There was yet one way open to Schiller, ^whereby he 

might evade the edict issued against him, but he _„ 

T xviil 
could not decide to take it. L J 

(35) 



XVIII 

burdj He Stnfunft beS bamatigen ©ro£fitrfreu$aul beranla$t 
iourben. 

Hitter frcmbcm 9camen gtng er nadj ftranfen, unb lebte bort 
betuafye ein 3al;r in ber Sftafye s>on SJJfetntngen ju Sauerbadj, 
eirtcm ©ute ber fjrau ®e£)ctmen = ^atbut son SBotjogen, 
bcren root;Irooftenbe Slufnaijme er [enter SSerbinbung mit ifyren 
(gofmen, bie rait tbnt in Stuttgart ftubiert fatten, oerbanfte* 
<ScrgIo3 unb uugeftort roibmete er fid) tjier ganj feinen pocti* 
fd;en Slrbetten. 3>ie ft-riicbte feiner Sfyattgfett roaren; bte 
SSerfc^rob'rung be3 gie^co, ein fd)on in ©tuttgart toalj- 
rcub be3 Slrrejte angcfangcneS SScrf, Sabale unb £iebe 
unb bte erften 3been jum ©on darloS. 3m (September 
1783 uerliejj er enblid} biefen Slufcntbalt, um jld^ nad) Sftann- 
$cim ju begeben, Wo er mtt itm bortigen Sweater in genauere 
2>crbtnbung trat. 

©3 war in ©c$iKer$ Sbara'ter, bei jebent (Smtrttte in neue 
SSer^attnip ftdj fog(etd) mit $(anen einersielumfa(fenben23irf- 
famfeit ju fccfdjaftigen. 9ftit roeldjem Srnfre er bie bramatifcBe 
itunft betrieb, ergibt fid) a\x$ feiner SSorrebe jur erften 5Iu£gabe 
ber dlavfoti, au3 bent Sluffajje ttber bag gcgeuroartige beut[d)e 
Sweater in bem roiirttemb. Sfcpertcriumunb au3 einer im erften 
fjefte ber Zfyalia eingeriicfteh SSorlefung iiber bie grage: 2Ba$ 
fann eine gute ftefjenbe ©djaubitfyne roirfen? 3n 
9Jcannt)cim fyejfte er oiel fitr bag fyb'tjere 3utereffe ber $unjr. 
Sr roar 9)ctrglteb ber bamaligen cbttrpfa^tfdjen beutfc^en ©e= 
fcllfdjaft geroorben, fat) fid) son 9ftanuern umgeben, son benen 
er eine f'rafttge 9?citroirfung erfoartete, unb entroarf einen tylan, 
bem Sweater in SSJcannfieim burd) tint bramarurgifdje ®efett- 
fdiaft eine grb^cre 23o[lfommenr>eit ju geben. 3>tefer ©ebaufe 
fam ntd)t jur $lu3fiit)rung ; aber ©duller »erfu#te roenigften3 
olletn fitr biefen 3^ecf etroa* &u leiftert, unb beftimmte baju 
einen Zhtii ber pcriobifdjen ©duift, bie er im 3af)re 1784 
unter bem Xitel: SK& ein tf#e- Xfyalia, unternaijm* 3n 
ber Slnfunbigung btefcr 3ettfdjrift rotrft er fid) mit jugenblicfcem 
S?ertrauen bem tyublitum in bie 5trme, ©eine SBorte fiub 
folgenbe: 

„2iae nmne Serbinbungen jtnb mmmer;r aufgclojl. £)a$ 



XVIII 



He related in later years, and we have this upon the 
authority of a trustworthy and reliable person, that it 
was not so much hie occupation with poetry, as the pecu- 
liar nature of his compositions, which caused the Duke's 
dissatisfaction. Being a prince of versatile attainments, 
he well understood how to appreciate Art in all its differ- 
ent branches, and it would, no doubt, have been a source 
of pleasure to him to have seen the Karls-Schule produce 
a really great poet. But the want of sufficient refinement 
in taste, was a fault in Schiller's productions that the Duke 
could not forgive. He did not give up all hopes, however ; 
but invited Schiller to visit him frequently; warned him 
in a fatherly manner, whereby Schiller could not remain 
unmoved, and it was only demanded of him that he should 
submit all his poetical productions to the Duke's censorship. 
It was utterly impossible for Schiller to accede to this, and 
his refusal was naturally received with ill favor. Notwith- 
standing all this, it appears that the Duke, in later years, 
still retained a certain interest in Schiller's welfare. For 
when, at a subsequent date, he secretly left Stuttgard, no 
stringent measures were brought to bear against him, nor 
was the step productive of any consequences prejudicial to 
his father's interests. Schiller was also unmolested when, 
in 1793, during the Duke's lifetime, he made a journey to 
his native state, in order to see his beloved parents. 

The representation of The Robbers at Mannheim, where 
the dramatic art stood verf high at the time, and espe- 
cially Iffland's impersonation of Franz Moor, filled Schil- 
ler with unbounded enthusiasm and ambition. The re- 
ception awarded him in Mannheim, gave promise of a 
happy poetical life, the attractions of which were too great 

for him to resist. But he wished, nevertheless, onlv to 

' ' 

quit Stuttgard with the Duke's consent, and he hoped to 

obtain it through the intervention of Freiherr von Dal- 
berg. In his letters to the latter gentleman, he repeatedly 
and pressingly requested such an intercession in his be- 
half. But no doubt insurmountable difficulties were pre- 

(36) 



XIX 

„5htHiFum tft nttr fc^t allc?, mein Srtubiunt, ntein Sou* 

,/oerotn, meht Serrrattter. 3bnt attein gebbre icb je£t an* 

f/ 35ot bfefent nnb "feincm anbern tribunal rcerbe id) mid) 

„fteUett. -DtefeS nur fiircbt' icb nnb «erebr xrfi. (Stroa? 

„@rofM roanbelt mid) an bet ber 2?erftellung, feme anbere 

//^etTel ju rragen, al» ben Slusferud) ber SBett — an Feinen 

„anbern Zbron mebr gtt appetttren, al3 an b : e menfdjlicbe 

„©eefe. — Ten 2 cbr if metier ubcrbiirfe bie 9fod>roelr, ber 

„nicbt mebr roar, alio feme £>erfe — nnb gcrne geftebe \A, 

„ba§ bet £erau?gabe btefer Jbalta meine sjcr^ugltcbe 5tb= 

„ficbt roar, jtttfdjen bent ^ublifum nnb mtr tin 33anb ber 

„Sreunbfcbaft jit fntipfen." 

Unter bt'e bramatifeben Stoffe, nttt benen ftdb 2 duller rocuV 

renb feme? 3Iufentba(te? in §ranfen nnb SUcamtbetm abaed)- 

fefttb befdjafttgte, gebb'rre bie Gjef&icbrc ^onrabin? *on 

Btytoakm nnb ein getter Jbeil ber Member, ber tint Slufiofnng 

ber Xiffenan^en btefeg IrauerfiHel? entbaUen fcttte. Slttcb ent= 

ftanb bamai? bet tbm Ht 3bee, SbaFfpeare? 9J?acfrety 

uni £tntoit fitr bie beutfebe 23iibne m bearbeiten. 2lber X on 

§ a r I o 3 roar e? enblicb, twmir er ftdb beftimmte, nnb einige 

Scenen bason erfebienen hn erfren £eft ber Ibalia. 

Tit Sorlefung btefer Scenen an bent lanbgrdfiid) beiTen= 
ba'rmfta'ttifcben &ofe gab ©elegenbeir, ba§ ^duller bent babet 
gegenroa'rrigen regierenben £er}oge son Sa$feiM5?etintar U* 
fannt unc sen ibnt mm jftatb ernannt ftirrbe. Zitit %ufytity> 
nnng sen einem -gurften, ber ntit ben Sttufcn serrraut nnb nur 
an ba? Sorrrejfltdje gerob'but war, mufue ScbiUern mr grefcen 
Slufmunterung gereidjen, nnb ^atte fpdterbin fitr ibn bie roid)- 
tigfren ? c 5c!gen. 

3m 2Rar$ be? Sabre? 17S5 tarn er nacb getpjfg. f>ter er- 
roarteten ibn greunbe, bie er buret feine friiberen s 3)robucte ge* 
roonnen batte, unt bie er in einer glitcfiicben 2ttmmung fanb. 
Unter biei'en -greunbett roar aucb ber jit friib serfrerfrene £ u b e r. 
2 cb i 1 1 e r ielbft rourbe aufgebeitert, unb serlebre einige Se- 
nate be? 2ommer? m Gjobii?, einem Tcrfe bet 2etp$tg, in 
etnent frebiicben 3trfeL £a? Bteb an iit greute rourbe 
bamal? gebic^tet. 



XIX 

sented which prevented his request from being granted. 
His impatience grew day by day, until at last he formed 
the resolution to escape, and selected the time, in October, 
1782, when every one in Stuttgard was busily engaged in 
the festivities incident upon the arrival of the Grand Duke 
Paul, of Russia. 

*He went to Franconia under an assumed 
name, and lived nearly a year at Bauerbach, •- - 1 

about two miles from Meiningen, upon the estate of 
Madam von Wolzogen, whose kind reception was due to 
his intimacy with her sons, who had studied with him at 
Stuttgard. Free from care, and undisturbed, he now ap- 
plied himself exclusively and diligently to his poetical la- 
bors. The fruits of his perseverance were : The Conspiracy 
of Fiesco, a work he had begun during his arrest at Stutt- 
gard ; Cabal and Love, and the first ideas of Don Carlos. 
At length, in 1783, he quitted his asylum, and went to 
Mannheim, where he had received the appointment of 
poet to the theatre. 

It was characteristic of Schiller whenever he entered 
upon a new field of labor, immediately to work out 
plans for a comprehensive efficiency. With what ear- 
nestness he devoted himself to the dramatic art, we see 
in his preface to the first edition of The Robbers ; also in 
an article On the Present German Theatre, published in 
the Repertory of Wurtemberg ; and in a lecture, inserted 
in the first volume of the Thalia, entitled : What can a 
good permanent Theatre accomplish? In Mannheim he 
anticipated much for the higher interests of 'Art. He 
was made a member of the German Society, established for 
literary objects at Mannheim ; saw himself surrounded by 
men from whom he expected to meet with a hearty co- 
operation ; and projected a plan to improve still further 
the theatre at Mannheim, by means of a society devoted 
to dramaturgy. This project never came to anj* issue; 
but Schiller, notwithstanding, endeavored to do something 
for the object in view unaided, and devoted a portion of 

(37) 



XX 

50?tt bem (Snbe beg (Summers 1785 fregann ©d&t'TIcrS 
rittbalt in jDre&at unb bauerte big unit 3uKu« 1787. 
Ton SarloS nutrbe bier nicbt blo§ geenbtgr, funbern erbt'elt aucb 
etne ganj neue ©cftalt. ©duller bereuete oft, ctnjelne ©cenen 
in ber £balta befannt gemacbt m baben, ebe bag ©ange rotten- 
bet toar. Sr felbft fiatte fta'brenb btcfer 9Irbeit betracbtltdje 
gortfdjrttte c;emad)t, feme gorberungen txmren jlrenger a,ercorben, 
unb ber anfangltcbe *picm befrtebt'gte it)n eben fo toenig, al$ bte 
banter ber SluSfiibrung tn ben erften gebrnrf'ten ©cenett. 

©er Sntumrf jit einem ©cbaufpteb ber ^enfcbenfet'nb, 
unb etntge bason sorlianbene ©cenen gel)b'rcn aucB in btcfe $e* 
rtobe. 33on Hetnern ©ebtdjten erfdnenen bamals nur toentge. 
©duller war tbetis m fefyr mtt ber gortfefiung femer 3eitfcbrtft 
befcbafttgt, tbetfe war tn tfym ber'SBunfity rege getoorben, burcb 
trgenb etne Jbattgfett aufserbatb beg ©ebteteS ber Dt'cbtfunft fid) 
etne unabbaugtge (Srtjfcnj m grimben. ©r fdjroanfte etntge 
3ett 2«tfcl;en SD^ebtjtn unb <33cfc^)fcr)te, unb teat) (te enbftcb bte 
tefcte. Tie luftortfcben SSorarbetten gum Ton SarlcS flatten 
tt)n auf etnen reid)f)alttgen ©tuff aufmerffam gemadjt, ben 21 6^ 
fall ber ?cteberlanbe unter tyfyilipp bent 3 we i= 
ten. 3 ur 23efyanb(ung b'tefeS ©toffeS fmg er ba^er an, 9J?a= 
tertalten m fammeln. Smdb befd?lo§ er bamate, ©ejcbtdjten 
ber merfwurbtgfren Dteuuluttunen unb 2$erfd)tobnmgen fyerauS- 
mgeben, iuouon aber nur em £betl erfd;ten, ber son ©critter 
(etbft ctttaS mtt enrbalt 

Sagltoftro fptelte bamals etne JRotte tn granfretdj, bte 
»tel 5Utffeben erregte ; unter bem, ioaS son btefem fonberbaren 
9Jcann erjab/lt imtrbe, fanb ©fitter- 9)mnd)e3 braudjbar fitr 
etnen SRuman, unb eg entftanb bte Sbee gum © e t ft erf et) er. 
S3 lag burd&aus feme iuafyre ©cfdncbte babet mm ©rttnbe, 
funbern ©filler, ber me etner gebetmen @efettf$aft angebbrte, 
louttte blc§ in bicfer ©attnng feme ^rafte serpen. T)a$ 
2Berf nutrbe tym tterietbet unb bltcb unbeenbtgt, ate auS ben 
Slnfragen, bte er yon mebjern ©etten erlnelt, b>r»ormgcl)ett 
fdnm, ba§ er blo§ bte 9frugterbe bey $ublifum$ auf bte 23e* 
gebenbett geretjt fja'tte, ©etn 3»ecf war etne boljere SBtrfung 
gerocfen. 



XX 

the Rhenish Thalia to it, a periodical undertaken by him 
in 1784. In his announcement of the Thalia, he throws 
himself, with youthful confidence, into the arms of the 
public. These are his words: 

" Ail my former connections are dissolved. The *public 
has become my all, my study, my sovereign, and 
t- J my confidant. To the public alone henceforth I 

belong. Before this tribunal, and this tribunal only, I 
take my stand. Something of greatness hovers over me, 
as I resolve to know no restraint but the sentence of the 
world — appeal to no throne but the soul of man ! The 
writer who is no more than his works, will be left by 
posterity in the dark distance of obscurity — and I gladly 
confess, that my main object in publishing the Thalia, is, 
to draw closely, between the public and myself, the ties 
of friendship." 

Among the dramatic subjects which engaged Schiller's 
attention, during his sojourn at Franconia and Mannheim, 
were his Conradin von Schwaben, and a second part of The 
Robbers, which he intended should remedy whatever ap- 
peared discordant in that tragedy. About this time, he 
also formed the project of translating and arranging 
Shakspeare's Macbeth, and Timon of Athens, for the Ger- 
man stage. But it was Don Carlos to which he eventu- 
ally gave his undivided attention, and several scenes from 
it appeared in the first number of the Thalia. 

The perusal of these scenes of Don Carlos, at the Court 
of Hesse-Darmstadt, while the reigning Duke of Sachsen- 
"Weimar happened to be present, was the opportunity of 
introducing the author to the notice of that enlightened 
prince, who expressed his satisfaction and respect, by con- 
ferring upon him the title of Counsellor. This distinction, 
from a prince so intimate with the Muses, and who was 
only accustomed to what was really excellent in Art, must 
certainly have encouraged Schiller to renewed efforts, as 
it also was, at a later date, productive of the most impor- 
tant results. 

(38) 



XXI 

T>a$ Satyr 1787 fiityrte ityn nafy 2Betmar. ©oettye toar 
bamalg in Stalien, aber »on 5B i e I a n b unb Berber tourbe 
(Settler mit SBotyltootlen aufgenommen,. Berber wax fiir 
ityn auferft anjietyenb, aber bie toaterltctye 3uneigung, mit ber 
itym 2B i e i a n b jtttoorfam, toirfte nocty in einem tybtyeren ©rabe 
auf ©dullerg Smbfanglictyfeit (Sr fctyrieb bamalg an einen 
greunb : 

„2Bir toerben ft^b'ne ©tunben tyaben. SBtelanb tji 
„jung, toenn er liebt." 

(Sin folctyeg genauereg 23ertyaltni§ gab 5lnta§, bag ©ctyifler 
$u einer fortge(e|3ten Xtyeilnatyme am beutj"ci;cn ^ftercur aufge* 
forbcrt tourbe. £)ie 3bee, biefer Qtitftyrtft burcty tf)it eitte 
frtfc^ere unb jugenblictyere ©eftalt jit geben, war fiir 2B tel anb 
fetyr erfreulid). <2ctyitter lte§ eg nictyt an £tyatigfeit fetylen unb 
lieferte bie ©otter ©rtectyenlanbg, bte $iinjrler, 
em fragment ber nieberlanbtfctyen ©cfctyictyte, bie SSrtefe ttber 
£)on Sarlog unb einige anbtre torojaifctye Stufjaije fur bie Satyr* 
gauge beg 9)tercur son 1788 unb 1789, bie itbertyaupt ju ben 
reid)fm(tigften getyb'rten unb jugleicty burd) 33eitrd'ge toon ©oettye, 
51 an t, Berber unb Sfteintyolb ficty augjeictyneten. 

9?od) tnt Satyre 1787 tottrbe ©ctyitfer toon ber T)amt tn 50?et= 
ningen, bie ityn, nacty feiner Sntfernung toon (Stuttgart, mit fo 
toieier <5)ute aufgenommen tyatte, $u einem 23efuctye eingelaben. 
2luf btefer SRetfe, bie er aug inntger Danfbarfeit unb ^)octy= 
fdjaj3ung unternatym, toertoeitte er aucty mit toieier 3Innetymlicty= 
feit in 0htbolftabt, mactyte bort intere[[ante 23efanntfdjaften, unb 
fat) juerft feine nactytyerige ©attin, graulein toon Sengefelb* 
©inige SBoctyen ioaren nacty feiner 3 uruc ^ Utt f* aott btefer 
Sfteife toergangen, alg er an einen greunb fctyrteb : 

„3cty bebarf eineg 9)?ebiumg, burcty bag tcty bie anbern 
„greuben geniejjje. greunbfdjaft, ©efctymacf, SBatyrtyeit unb 
„<Sctybntyeit iuerben metyr auf micty ttoirfen, roettrt eine un* 
„unterbroctyene Sfcitye feiner tootylttyatiger -tyauglictyer Sm* 
„tofhtbungen mid) fiir bie greube ftimmt unb mem erfforrteg 
„2Befen roteber burctytoarmt. 3cty bin hi^> je£t, tin tfolirter 
„frember 9tten)cty, in ber ftatur tyerumgeirrt unb \)aU nic^tg 



xxr 

Schiller went to Leipsic in March, 1785. He was here 
anxiously expected by friends whom he had gained by his 
earlier productions, and all of whom he found to be in the 
best of spirits. Among these friends was the too early de- 
parted Huber. Even Schiller was now in excellent spirits, 
and he spent some of the summer months at Gohlis, a vil- 
lage near Leipsic, in a happy circle of chosen friends. His 
Lied an die Freude (Song to Joy), one of his most spirited 
and beautiful lyrical productions, was composed here. 

*Schiller ; s residence in Dresden began with the r „ .. 

• r xx I 

close of the summer of 1785, and lasted until July, 
1787. Don Carlos no„t only received its finishing touches 
here, but was entirely remodelled. Schiller often regret- 
ted ever having made public certain scenes in the Thalia 
before the whole was completed. During the composition 
of this work, Schiller had made very considerable prog- 
ress ; his demands had become greater, and he was as little 
satisfied with the original plan, as he was with the man- 
ner of its execution, in the scenes first made public. 

A sketch of a play, never finished, entitled Der Men- 
schenfeind (The Misanthrope), also belongs to this period. 
There now appeared but few minor poems. Schiller was 
too much engaged in conducting the Thalia, and the de- 
sire was growing very strong within him, to found an in- 
dependent support, by means of any occupation outside 
the realms of poetry. He wavered for a time between 
Medicine and History, and at last chose the latter. The 
composition of Don Carlos had already called his attention 
to a copious subject: The Revolt of the Netherlands under 
Philip the Second. He now commenced to select the ma- 
terials for its necessary treatment. He also concluded, 
about this time, to edit a History of the most remarkable 
Conspiracies and Revolutions in the Middle and Later Ages, 
whereof only a part appeared, containing something by 
Schiller himself. 

Cagliostro was now playing a prominent part at Paris ; 
of the many remarkable things related of this really won- 

(39) 



XXII 

„aU (Sigentbum fcefefreru — 3<$ fc^ite mt'cB nacb enter bitr* 
„gerlicben tint fyfiit8lu$en <2riffeir v — 3dj babt fctt sielen 
,,3-^rett fern gauges ©liicf gefiibtt, unb ivM foroobf, »et! 
„mir tie ©egcufrante bagit febiren, fcntern tarum, roeil i$ 
„bte greuben mebr nafcbre, ate geuc§, trefl e3 mtr an unmet 
„g f etcber unb fanfrer Gmpfaitgltcbfctt mangelte, bte nur bie 
„?frtbe be* g-amilienlebcn* gtbt" 

Xie ©egenb bet jRutolftafct batte ecbiflem fo febr ange^ogen, 
bafj er jtc§ entfdjiojj, ben <2ommer be;? 3<rfjt*$ 1788 bort ju 
terleben. 2r roobute !ocm 2Rat bis $um ^ftosember tyetfe m 
SSolfjfrtX flicbr foeit *cn jftubolfrabt, urn bag Santleben ju ge= 
ntejjen, fytiH fpa'ter in jftutolftatt felfcft, unb tie gamilie ber 
gran son 2engefe(b roar faft tagticfj [ein Umgang. 3m 
Sfaj&ember ftfjrieb er: 

„9Ketn Slbjug tm$ jRitbotjrabt ifr mtr in ber Zfyat fc&fter 

„gefc»0rben, 3& babt bort sie(e fcbb'ne £age gelebt, unb tin 

,,kbx roertbey 2?.tnb ber ^minbf4>aft geftiftet" 

5Qa'i)renb btefeS SlufentbalteS in 3fcufcoljrabt traf ftd)'3, ba§ 

Scbiller ^um erftenmale ©oetben fab. Seine Srtoarrung 

tear anfs bb'cb're ge^annt, tbetts burcb bie friibern Sinbritcfe 

»on G3ceti)e» 23erfen, tt)eil§ burcf> atfee, roa» er iiber fetrt 

^erfbnlicbes in ©etmar gefyb'rt batte* © o e t f; e erfcbien in 

einer jablreidjen ©efettfcbaft, fetter unb mittbetlcnb, befonbers 

iiber feine italienifcbe dink, Bon ber er eben jutiicfgefommen 

tear ] aber biefe fRvfyt unb .Itnbefangenfyeit batte fiir eqnu'ern, 

ber tn bent Setonftfetn eine3 raftlcfen unb unbefrietigten @tre- 

bens ifjm gegenitber fa§, bamals eto>a» UnbebagltcbeS. 

,>3nt ©anjen genommen," fd)rieb er iiber biefe 3ufam* 
„me;:funft, „ifi meine in ber Zfyat grope 3tee sort ©octbje 
„nacb biefer terfb'ulicben S?efanntfc^aft nicbt serminbert 
„toorbeu; aber tcf) jtoetfle, ob roir eiaanber je febr nabe 
„rucfen roerben. SSieleg, roa» mir je£t nod> tntereffarti tft 
„i»a3 id> nodj ju roitnfcben unb ju fjoffea babe, tjat feine 
„5-ccbe bti ibm burcbiebt Sein gaajcS SBefen ift ft^ott 
„*>ott 5Xnfang f>cr attberg angelegt, aU ba$ meinige, feine 
„SBeIt ift nicbt bie meinige, unfere 2>orftelhntg>?arren fcbet- 
„nen toe[entli^ urrfe^teberu Snbeffen fcplte^t \tty auS einet 



XXII 

derful man, Schiller found much that was useful for an 
interesting novel, and he wrote the Geisterseher (The 
Ghost-seer). It was by no means founded on fact, hut 
Schiller, who never belonged to a secret society, merely 
wished to try his powers in this new field. Finding, 
however, that his views had been mistaken, many per- 
sons writing to him on the subject, he became discour- 
aged, and the work was never completed. It was thought 
that he only meant to excite the curiosity of the public, 
by calling attention to the circumstance itself, so full of 
the marvellous and horrible; whereas his object had been 
to produce a far nobler effect. 

*In 1787 he went to "Weimar. Goethe was ab- 
I XXI 
L J sent in Italy, but Wieland and Herder received 

him with a cordial welcome. There was something very 
attractive in Herder, and Schiller felt drawn towards 
him; but the fatherly affection with which Wieland ap- 
proached him, had even a greater effect upon his suscepti- 
bility. Thus he wrote to a friend : 

" We shall have bright hours ; Wieland is young, when 
he loves." 

In consequence of their close connection, Schiller was 
now called upon to contribute regularly to the Deutsche 
Mercur (German Mercury), a work Wieland had edited 
for a long time. The idea of giving, through Schiller, 
a fresher and more youthful tone to this periodical, was 
highly gratifying to Wieland. Schiller employed his time 
to good advantage, and through this channel first ap- 
peared The Gods of Greece, The Artists, a fragment of the 
History of the Netherlands, the Letters on Don Carlos, and 
several other prose compositions during 1788 and 1789; 
in these years also, it contained some of its choicest mat- 
ter, being enriched by contributions from Goethe, Kant, 
Herder, and lieinhold. 

In 1787, some months after his arrival, he received an 
invitation from Madam von Wolzogen, his patroness and 
protectress after his flight from Stuttgard, to visit her at 
4 (40) 



xxin 

„fofc(jett 3 u fft turn ettfuitf t nid;t fmjer unb grimblictj. £)te 
„3eit tt>trb bag SBeitere letyren." 

ttnb bie 3«t lefyrte fcf)on nacty einigen 3D?onaten, ba^ ©oet^j e 
roenigfteng feme ©elegenfjeit oerfaumte, ftcf) fur ©cittern, ben 
er m fc|aj3en touf te, tt)attg m oerroenben. 2113 ber $rofeffor 
Sitcom bamalg 3ena oertiep, tear eBen ©clu'Clerg 2Berf 
liber ben Slbfatt ber ^teberlanbe erfd)ienen, unb oerfpra$ totel 
Don ifym fiir ben SBortrag ber ©efcfud)te, ©oetfye unb ber 
©ef)eime=^atf) son SSoig t beroirften bafyer feme 5mftelUmg, 
alg ^rofeffor tn 3ena. <&tf)iUtxn roar bieg atterbingg erroiinfcfyt, 
aber mgleidj iiberrafc^enb, ba er m einem foldjen Sefyrantte nocfi 
erne SSorbereitmtg oon einigen 3al;ren fiir nb'tMg gefyalten t)atte» 
(Sett fetrter 2lbreife oon £>regben big jum ^rit^ia^r 1789, atg 
ber 3?it, ba er feme $rofeffur m 3ena antral befdjaftigte tfyn 
f)aufct|ad;(icf) fein fuftorifd;eg 2Berf, Sr f$rieb bariiber einem 
greunbe: 

w X)u gtaubjr faum, rote mfrteben tt$ mtt memern neuen 
„i$ad)t bin. 5lfmung grower unbebauter gelber t>at fiir mi$ 
„fo Jotel SlefjenbeS. 9ftit jebem ©centre geroinne tcf> <m 
„3been, unb mctne ©eele rotrb roeiter mit t&rer SBelt." 
Sine fpatere Sleugerung liber benfyiftorifcben ©tyl ioarfolgenbe* 
„T)a$ 3ntcrejfe, roel^eg bte ®eft$tc$te beg ^eloponncjl- 
/r f4)en $riegeg fiir bie ©rtecben fyatte, mu{? man jeber neu* 
„em ©efcfyic^te, bte man fiir bte ^euern fi^rcibt, m geben 
„fuc$ett. !Da0 eben tfr bte Slufgabe, ba§ man feme 9flate* 
„rtalten fo toa&It unb jMt, bap fie beg <S$mucfg mc^t 
„brau$en, urn m mterefftren. 2Qtr 9?euern fyaben em 
„3rttereffe in unferer ©eroalt, bag fein ®rie$e unb fein Sto- 
„mergefanntt)at, unb bent bag oaterlanbtfcfje 3ntereffe 
„M toeitem ntc^t beifcmmt. £>ag le£te ift iiber^au^t nur 
„fftr unreife 9cationen roidjtig, fiir bie 3ugenb ber SBelt 
//<Sin ganj anbereg 3nterej[e ift eg, jebe merfroiirbige 33e- 
„gebenr;eit, bie mit 9ftcnfd;en oorging, bem 9ttenf#en tot#- 
„tig barmftetten. (£$ ift ein armfeligeg, fletnltc$e3 3beaf, 
„fiir eine Nation ju f^reiben; etnem pI;ilofopl)i(c$en ®eijl 
„ift biefe ©renje bureaus unertraglic^. liefer fann hd 
„eirter fo roanbeibaren, jufaUigen unb roittfurii^eu gorm 



XXIII 



Meiningen. "While upon this journey, undertaken from 
a deep sense of gratitude and esteem, he also spent a time 
very pleasantly at Kudolstadt, formed some very interest- 
ing acquaintances, and saw, for the first time, his future 
wife, Fraulein von Lengefeld. 

A few weeks after his return from this journey, he thus 
wrote to a friend : 

" I want a set standard of comfort, that I may be able 
thereby to appreciate other pleasures. Friendship, the 
Arts, the Beautiful, and the True, will all have more effect 
upon me, when an uninterrupted course of domestic bliss 
shall have prepared me for them, and thrown warmth 
into my frozen being. I have wandered hitherto like an 
isolated stranger in nature, and have *possessed ^ 
nothing of my own. All the beings for whom 
I felt attachment, possessed something that was dearer to 
them than I am, and that suflices not for my heart. I 
yearn for a home, and all my hopes are now concentrated 
towards that end." 

Being strongly drawn to Kudolstadt, Schiller concluded 
to pass the Summer of 1788 in it and the surrounding 
country. He resided in this vicinity from May to No- 
vember, dividing his time between Kudolstadt and Volk- 
staedt, to enjoy the more of country life ; the latter part 
of the season was spent entirely in Kudolstadt. The 
Lengefeld family received his daily visits with cordiality, 
so that in November he wrote : 

"I left Kudolstadt with great regret; I passed many 
pleasant days there, and formed a lasting friendship." 

It was during his stay in Kudolstadt, that Schiller saw 
Goethe for the first time. His curiosity was excited to 
the utmost, partly on account of the early impressions he 
had received from Goethe's works, and partly on account 
of what he had heard about him at Weimar. Goethe, in 
a large circle, appeared cheerful and communicative, his 
travels through Italy, from which he had just returned, 
formed one of his favorite themes ; but there was some- 

(41) 



XXIV 

„ber SDJenfdjfietr, Bet etnem gragmente (unb toa^tjr bte 
„tmd)ttg[te fatten auberg?) ntdjt fttCte ftetyen. Sr fann fid; 
„ntc^t wetter bafiir ertoarmen, aU fotoett itnn btefe Nation 
„ober 9?attonaIbegebenf)ett aid 23ebingung fur ben gort= 
„fcl)rttt ber ©attung nncbttg ift" 

(Sine fo begetfternbe Stufidjt ber ©efd;td)te madjte gletcpttofyl 
©du'ltern ber £>ict)tfunft ntcfyt untreu. ©etne poetifd;en ^Jro* 
bucte in btefem 3^traume ftaren ntcfit jafylretcb, aber bebeutenb, 
unb gortfebrttte, foit>ot)I tn 2lnfef)ung ber $orm a!S beg 3n= 
fyalts, jcigten fid) fetjr beutltcb tn ben ©ottern ©riedjen- 
lanbs nnb tn ben ^itnjrlern. 3lu$ befdjd'fttgten ttm $tane 
ju Htnftt'gen poettfct;en Slrbetten, £)te 3bee, etntge ©ttuatto- 
nen au£ SBtelanbg £)beron aid Dper ju befyanbeln, fam 
ntcbt jur 2Iu3fuf)rung. danger sertoetlte ©duller bet bent ©e= 
bauten, ju etnem eptfdjen ©ebtdjt ben ©toff and bent &Un be£ 
$bmg$ grtebrtd; be3 3 we ^en §u ttabten* (S3 ftnben fid; fyter* 
itber in ©duller^ SSrtefen folgenbe ©tellen : 

„Dte 3bee, tin eptffyt$ ©ebtcfrt auS enter merfftutrbtgen 
„2lctton $riebrtd)3 be3 3^ e ^ en 3 U ntacfyen, tft gar ntdjt $u 
„!oerit>erfen, nur fommt fie fitr fed?3 bis acfyt Satire fitr mid? 
„$u fritf). Side ©cfynnertgfetten, bte yon ber fo nafyen 
„9)?obermtat btefeS ©ujeto cutftefyen, nnb bte anfebeinenbe 
„ttiwertragltd;)fett beg eptfdjen Song nut etnem gletd)jetttgen 
„©egenftanbe foitrben midj fo fefyr nid)t fdjrecfen, — (Sin 
„epifd)e3 ©ebicfyt im ac^etmten 3af)rf)unbert ntup etn ganj 
„anberes £)tng fein, aid timd in ber ^tnbtjett ber 2BeIt, 
„Unb tltn bad i\Vd, toad mid) an btefe 3bee fo atujefyt 
„ttnfere ©itten, ber feutfte ©uft nnferer ^bitofoptn'en, un- 
„fere 23erfaj]ungen, piinSlifyMi, Siinjie, furj, aUed mujj 
„auf tint ungejnnmgene 2irt barin niebergelegt toerben, 
„unb tn etner fd)bnen fyarmonifdjen gretfyeit leben, fo tote tn 
„ber 3Habe atte B^eige ber grtec^tf^en Sultur n* [♦ to* an- 
^fd^auttd; (eben. 34) bin and) gar rttc^t abgenefgt, nttr etne 
„5)?afd)tnerie ba^tt ju erftuben, benn tc^ mb'4)te auc^ atte 
^^orberungen, bte man an ben eptfeben !Dtd)ter »on (Set'ten 
/y ber gorm madjt, ^aarfd)arf erfiUIem ©tefe 5J?a!cbtnerte 
„aber, bte bet etnem fo mobernen Stoffe, in etnem fo pro- 



XXIV 



thing in his quiet self-possession, that made Schiller, who 
sat opposite to him with the full consciousness of his own 
natural constraint and unsatisfied aspirations, feel some- 
what uncomfortable. 

"On the whole," he wrote, "this personal meeting has 
not at all diminished the idea, great as it was, which I 
had previously formed of Goethe; hut I doubt if we shall 
ever come into any close communication with each other. 
Much that still interests me has already had its epoch 
with him. His whole nature is, from its very origin, 
otherwise constructed than mine ; his world is not my 
world ; our modes of conceiving things appear to be es- 
sentially different. From *such a combina- 
L -* tion, no secure, substantial intimacy can result. 

Time will try." 

The lapse of a few months revealed the interesting fact 
that Goethe neglected no opportunity of using his influ- 
ence in Schiller's favor, whom he well knew how to ap- 
preciate. About the time Eichhorn, Professor of History, 
left the University of Jena, Schiller's great work, the 
History of the Revolt of the United Netherlands, made its 
appearance, and gave great promise for him as a histori- 
cal lecturer. For which reason, Goethe and the Geheime- 
Rath von Voigt, the latter of whom was Chaplain of the 
Court, succeeded in having him appointed to fill the va- 
cant chair of Historical Professor at the University of 
Jena. This position, under the circumstances, was highly 
satisfactory to Schiller, but, nevertheless, he was taken 
greatly by surprise, since he deemed a thorough prepara- 
tion of several years necessary to fill it successfully. 

From the time of his departure from Dresden until the 
spring of 1789, the time he accepted the professorship at 
Jena, he busied himself principally with his historical 
work. He thus wrote to a friend on the subject: 

" You can scarcely imagine how pleased I am with this 
new branch of occupation. The prospect of so many 
waste lands capable of cultivation has a peculiar charm 

(42) 



XXV 

„faifd5en 3 e ^ ta ^ er ' &« grb§te Sditoterigfett $u BaBctt fdjeinf/ 
„fann bag 3ntereffe in einem boften ©rate erfyotyen, toenn 
„fte eben btefent mobemeit ©etjle angepafjf toirb. So rol- 
„ten attnlei 3been bariiber in meinem $opfe tritb burdj* 
„einanber, aber eg toirb fid) nocb ettoag £elleg baraug biU 
„btn. Slber toetcfyeg 9ftetrunt ify baju toafylen toitrbe, er* 
„Tat!# Du toofyl fdjtoerlidj. — ^etn anbereg, alg ottave 
„rime. 2llte anbere, bag jambtfdbe auggenommen, fmb 
„mir m ben Job jutoiber, unb tote angenefym mitfire ber 
„Hkn% ba6 (Srbabene in fo kitten $effeln fpieten! toie 
„fef)r ber eptfcbe <35ef>alt burd) bie toetrfje fanfte gornt fd>b'= 
„ner S^etme getotnnen ! ©ingen mufj man eg fonnen, 
„toie bte griedjifdien SBnuern bie 3Habe, tote bie ©onboliere 
„in Senebtg bie (Stanjen aug bem befreiten 3erufalem. 
„2Iud) iiber bte (Spodje aug Oriebrtc^g Seben, bie icf) toa'fylen 
„toitrbe, f)vibe id) nadjgebacbr. 3$ fydtte gem eine unglitcf* 
„lid)e Situation, toeld^e feinen ©eift unenblidj poettfc^er 
r/ enttoicfetn (apt Die £auptf)anblung tnit§re, too mbglid), 
„febr einfad) unb toenig pevtoicfelt few, ba§ bag ©an$e 
dimmer letdjt ju itberfetjen bliebe, toenn auc| bie (Spifoben 
„nocb fo reid^alrig tod'ren. 3d) toitrbe barum immer fein 
„ganjeg Ztbtn unb fein 3abrf)uttbert barin anfdiauen Iaffert. 
„Sg gtbt f)ier fein beffereg 9ttufter, alg bte 3Kabe." 
Da6 (Stubium ber ®ried)en »ar iiberfjaupt bamalg fitr ©d)il= 
Iern fetjr anjtebenb. 33on JRuboIftabt aug fcfyrieb er: 

„3d) Iefe je£t fafr nid)tg, alg Corner; bie Sltten geben 

„mir toafyre ©enttjfe. 3 u gtod) bebarf id) ifyrer t'm fybdjjhn 

„®rabe, um meinen eigenen ©efdmtad $u reinigen, ber ftdj 

„bur$ vsptfcfmbtgfett, SUmfHt'djfett unb 2£i£elei fefjr son ber 

„toabren ©impltcttd't ju entfernen anftng." 

3n btefer 3«t iiberfefcte er and) bie ^pr^tgeme in Slulig unb 

einen SE&etl ber Wmctermnett beg guripibeg. Der 5Igamem- 

non beg Stefc^wg, auf ben er jid) fefyr freute, foffte nad)f>er an 

bie JReitje Fommen. Die Ueberfe^ungen aug 33irgi(g Sleneig 

entfranben fpdter, unb tourben gro§entbei(g burd) (5^itterg ba- 

maltge SSorliebe fitr bie Stanjen peranla^t. Siirger toar 

int. 3a^r 1789 nac|> SBeimar gefommen, unb ®^ttter gtng 



XXV 

for me. Each step enriches my ideas, and my soul ex- 
pands in proportion to their enlarged circle." 

Upon another occasion, he gave vent to the following 
declarations upon the subject of historical style : 

" It seems to me that in writing history for the mod- 
erns, we should try to communicate to it such an interest 
as the History of the Peloponnesian War had for the 
Greeks. Now this is the problem : to choose and arrange 
your materials so that, to interest, they shall not need the 
aid of decoration. We moderns have a source of interest 
at our disposal, which no Greek or Koraan was acquainted 
with, and which the patriotic interest does not nearly 
equal. This last, in general, is chiefly of importance for 
unripe nations, for the youth of the world. But we may 
excite a very different sort of interest if we represent each 
remarkable occurrence that happened to men as of impor- 
tance to man. It is a poor and little aim to write for one 
nation ; a philosophic spirit cannot tolerate such limits, 
cannot bound its views to a form of human nature so ar- 
bitrary, fluctuating, accidental. *The most pow- 
erful nation is but a fragment; and thinking ^ J 

minds will not grow warm on its account, except in so far 
as this nation or its fortunes have been influential on the 
progress of the species." 

Notwithstanding Schiller's enthusiasm for History, he 
still remained faithful to Poetry. His poetical produc- 
tions during this period, though not numerous, were very 
important, and in The Gods of Greece, as well as in The 
Artists, considerable progress was shown, not only in re- 
spect to the form, but also in the subject-matter itself. 
He was at the same time busily engaged with plans for 
future poetical works. The idea of treating certain scenes 
in Wieland's Oberon as an opera, was never put into exe- 
cution. Schiller was for a long time occupied with the 
idea of selecting the matter for an epic poem, from the 
Life of Frederick the Great. Upon this subject, we find 
the following in Schiller's letters : 

(43) 



XXVI 

etncrt ffi?ettffrett mit ibm em. 23eibe ttofften bafjelbe (Stud attS 

bcm SStrgtl, jeber in einem felbftgetoaljltett SSerSmafje, uberfejjttt. 
S5>te febr (gdnller in Hefer denote femes £ebeu$ bie e$te 

ftririf ebrte, unb mit toeldpar (Strcnge er fid) felbft beljanbeite, 

ergtbt fid) au3 folgenbeu Stcllen feiner 33rtefe: 

„93?etn na<$ffe$ ©Hid/' fdjrcibt er, „ba3 fcbtrerlid) in ben 
„nad)ften jttei 3af)ren erfcbeinen bitrfte, mu§ meinen brama= 
„tifd)ert Seruf entfdjeiben. 3d) traue mix im £rama ben= 
„nod) am allermeiften ju, unb id) toetp, ttorauf fid) biefe 3u* 
„s>erfid>t gritnbet. 23tS jetjt baben micb bie Pane, bie mid) 
„ein blinber 3 u f°H ^ablen Kejji, aufg a'ufjerfte embarraffirt, 
„tteil bie £ompo|trton ju toettlauftg unb m fuf)n ioar. £afj 
„micb einmal emeu ftmpeln 9Jlan betjanbcht unb baruber 
„bruten." 

SB i e I a n b batte ibm ben Mangel an Seicbtigfcit sorgcfrorfrn. 
„3d) fiifyte," fd>reibt er baruber, „n>a'brenb metncr 5trbet- 
„ten nur m fe()r, ba# er Sfccbt bat, aber i\i> fiityle aucb, tooran 
„ber $eb(er liegt, unb bie3 laft mid) fyoffen, bag id) mid) febr 
„barm soerbeffem farm. Tie Sbeen frromen mir nidit reid; 
„genug m, fo ujtytg metnc Strbeiten and) auSfaflen, unb 
// meine 3been ftnb ttidji flat, ebe id) fctjretbe. gillie bc3 ©ei- 
„fte» unb $er$en3 soon fetnent Qegenftanbe, ehte licbre !£)atrt= 
„menmg ber Sbcen, ebe man fid) r)mfe$t, fie aufs tyapitt ju 
„tDcrfeit, unb leidjter burner .ftnb notr)r»enbtge S^equifiten ju 
„btefer (Sigenfcbaft; unb ismtt td^ e3 einmal mit mir felbft 
„\)afyiYi bringe, bag tt^ jene brei Srforberatffe beft^e, fo foil 
„e$ mit ber Ceicbtigf'cit aucb trerben." 
gin folcbeo ©treben, jebe Inhere gorberung jn befriebigen, 

artete jebodi nie in ftetnlicbe 9lcngftlicbt'cit au$. tteber bie grei= 

belt be3 £id)ter3 in ber 23at)l femes Stop fd)rieb er bamals 

golgenbeS : 

„3cb 'bin iiberjeugt, ba§ jebeS jhtnjhoerf nur jtcb felbft, 
„bgS t)eijjr; feiner eigenen Scbonbeitoregel ^edienfcbaft geben 
^barf, unb feiner anbern ^orberung untertoorfen ift. -pin= 
„gegen giaube idi aucb feftigficb, ba§ e£ gerabe auf biefem 
„£>cge aucb afle iibrigen gorberungen mittelbar befrie= 
„bigcn mu§, tocil ftc^ jebe Sc|bnf)eit boc^ cnblit^ in allge= 



XXVI 



" The idea of an epic poem, founded upon some remark- 
able incident in the life of Frederick II, is not to be re- 
jected ; but it comes six or eight years too soon for me. 
The difficulties that would arise from the subject being so 
modern, and the apparent inaptitude of an epic poem of 
a subject almost contemporary with ourselves, would not 
be objections strong enough to dissuade me from the task. 
An epic poem in the eighteenth century should be quite a 
different thing from such a poem in the childhood of the 
world. And it is that very circumstance which attracts 
me so much towards this project. Our manners, the finest 
essence of our philosophies, our politics, economy, arts, 
in short, all we know and do, would require to be intro- 
duced without constraint, and interwoven in such a com- 
position, to live there in beautiful harmonious freedom, 
as all the branches of Greek culture live and are made 
visible in Homer's Iliad. Nor am I disinclined to invent. 
a species of machinery for this purpose ; being anxious to 
fulfil, with hair's breadth accuracy, all the requisitions that 
are made of epic poets, even on the side of form. Besides, 
this machinery, which, in a subject so modern, in an age 
so *prosaic, appears to present the greatest diffi- 
L J culty, might exalt the interest in a high degree, 

were it suitably adapted to this same modern spirit 
Crowds of confused ideas on this matter are rolling to and 
fro within my head; something distinct will come out of 
them at last. The sort of metre I would choose, I think 
you will hardly guess : it should be no other than ottave 
rime. All the rest, except iambic, have become insufferable 
to me. And how beautifully might the earnest and the lofty 
be made to play in these light fetters. What attractions 
might the epic substance gain by the soft yielding form of 
this fine rhyme ! For the poem must, not in name only, 
but in very deed, be capable of being sung ; as the Iliad 
was sung by the peasants of Greece, as the stanzas of Je- 
rusalem Delivered are still sung by the Venetian gondo- 
liers. The epoch of Frederick's life that would fit me 

(44) 



XXV II 

„t»eme 3Bafy$ett auflb'fen [afjt £er Ticbrer, bcr ftcb nut 
„<&d?0it$eit jum 3»ccfe fe|t, abcr btefer f?etlig felgr, roirb am 
„Snbe alle attbern jftucfftcbten, He er ju *>erlac$lafftgeit fcinen, 
„cbne bag er eg and obcr roei§, gleicbfam $ur 3 u 3 a & e m '* 
„errc{cbt babm, ba tm ©egentbeile ber, ber jroifcben ©djtm=» 
w lje{t urtb SKeralirat, cber roa3 e3 fenfr fa, unftat flattert, 
„ober urn beire bublt, letdjt e3 nut jeter serHrbt" 
3n emern anbent fcantaligen Sricf ftnbet ftdj folgenbe 5teu§e=> 
rung: 

,/3&r £erren Srtttfer, unb tote ibr eucf> fonfi nennt, f$amt 
„ober fiircfjtet eucb *or bent augenblicflicben s>oritberger;enben 
„©abntiu£ t, ber ftcb bet alien eigneit Scbepfern finret, unb 
,/bcjfen langere ober fitr^ere Tauer ben benfenben ftiinfrier 
„«en bent Jraumer unterfcbeitet. Tafyzx eure Slagen iiber 
^llnfruc&tbarfctr, roeil t^r $u friilie serroerft unt> ju frrenge 
„fonberr." 

Tit gliicflicbe Stimmung, He at ber bantaltgen $tit au$ 
2cbiltere Sriefeu bersorging, rourbe in ben beiben erften 3abren 
femes 2uifentbalt3 in Sena nocb erljebr, ale ntebrere gihtjrtge 
Umftanbe ibn ^on ber angfrlicben Serge fur He ©egenroart unb 
3ufunft befreiten, unb ale ber 93cji| ether geliebten ®attin etnen 
langft geroihtfebren Sebenegenuij tbm burbot. Setn Sebramt be= 
gann er auf eine febr gtanjenbe 5Irt: iiber Herbunbert 3 u ^rer 
ftrb'mten m feinen 33erlefungen. Tit llnternebmuug einer £er= 
aucgabe son Sftemoiren, room er einlettente SIbbanblungen 
(cbrieb, unb bte tjcrrfe§ung ber £balia ftcberten il>m fiir [eine 
Seburfmffe eine binlanglicbe (rinnabme. £3 blieb itmt babet 
nodj $tii 3 U SReceniionen fiir bie allgemeine 2iterarur=3eitang 
iibrig, m cer er (ebon feft 1787 23eirrage lieferte. gitr bie 3^ s 
funft baiit ibn ber Sucbbantler ©bfeben ju einer ©efc^id)te 
be? breijngjabrigen SriegS fiir einen b;ifrori[cben 2ilmana$ auf* 
geforberr, unb em beutfrfjer 5? tu tar 4> roar bie Strbeit, bie 
ben folgenben 3abren mbebalien tr-urbe. 25cn bent ^erjoge 
?on 2>a(fy\m=$Qtimax roar rait grower 23ereitroiliigfeit, fo »iel e5 
bie 23erbaltnijTe erlaubten, beigetragen roorben, unt ec^illern ein 
geroiifeS Sinfommen ju serfebaffen. T^ae au^gejeiebnete 2Bobl' 
roollen, voontit ib;n ber bamalige Soabjutor »on 2Katnj unb 



XXVII 

best, I have considered also. I should wish to select some 
unhappy situation ; it would allow me to unfold his mind 
far more poetically. The chief action should, if possible, 
be very simple, perplexed with no complicated circum- 
stances, that the whole might easily be comprehended at 
a glance, though the episodes were never so numerous. I 
would, therefore, always keep his whole life and the age 
he lived in vividly in the foreground. In this respect 
there is no better model than the Iliad." 

The study of the Greek classics now possessed the great- 
est attraction for Schiller. Thus he wrote from Kudol- 
stadt : 

' ' I now scarcely read anything but Homer ; the ancients 
alone give me pleasure. I also stand much in need of 
them to improve my style, which was becoming too arti- 
ficial." 

At this period he translated Euripides' Iphigenia in 
Aulis. and a few scenes of his Phcenissce. JEschylus' 
Agamemnon, from which he expected to derive much 
pleasure, was shortly to follow. The translations from 
Virgil's JEneid appeared later, occasioned, for the most 
part, by the predilections Schiller entertained at the time 
for the measure. Burger had come to Weimar, in 1789, 
and Schiller entered into a ^rivalry with him. _„ .. 

J r*xxvi] 

Both desired to translate the same piece from 
Virgil, each in a metre of his own choosing. 

How greatly Schiller appreciated true criticism at this 
period of his life, and with what severity he judged him- 
self, may be seen in the following, taken from his letters : 

"My next dramatic production," he writes, "which 
will appear some two years h^nce, will decide my dramatic 
station. I have great confidence in my dramatic powers, 
and I know on what grounds this confidence is founded. 
As yet chance has thrown the subjects of my dramas in 
my way, and they have greatly embarrassed me, as the 
composition has been too extensive and too rash. But 
wait till I take some simple plot, and brood over it." 

(45) 



XXVIII 

(Sftatroalter ron Srfurt, ber fcerfrorbene gitrfl ^rima£ unb ©ro§= 
fyerjcg soon granffurt, befyanbette,* erb'ffnete Sdriitern bie grin* 
fHgften 9ht3jtd)teru 3ffir bie ©ritnbung fetneg fyausticben ©liirfo 
fct)ten er ntd&ts tretter $u beburfen ; fern £er$ fyatte geroat)lt, ltnb 
im gebniar 1790 erbtelt er bte &anb bee gMtulctitf ren Seng e=« 
felb* Seine 23riefe au3 ben nad;(;erigen 9??enaten enttjatten 
fotgenbe ©teften: 

„(£§ lebt ftd) bed? gan$ anber3 an ber Seite enter tieben 
„grau, ate fo rertajfen unb attein — and; tm Sommer. 3efit 
„erft genie§e tcf; bie fcfrb'ne ?catur gan$ unb lebe in tl)r, S3 
„f"Ieibet jtdj trieber nm mid> fyerum in bicbterifdie ©eftatten, 
„unb eft regt jtdb'o toteber in meiner 33rufl. — 2Ba3 fitr ein 
„fdjotte3 2eben fut)re tdj jefjt! 3cb fef>e mit frbbticfrem ©eifre 
^ttm rrtf d§> f>er, nnb mem £>er$ ftnbeF eine immerroafjrenbe 
„fanfte Sefriebigung auger fid), mein ©eifr dm fo fdpbne 
„??abritng unb Srtjctung. 9?ietn £a[ein tft in eine f>armo= 
„nf[d)e ©teiebbeit gerittft; nidjt letbeitfcbaftlico gefrannt, abcr 
„ntr;tg unb bed geben mtr btefe Stage babm. — Sftemem Fitnf* 
„tigen Sdndfate fe^e i& mit fyetterm 9Jcutt}e entgegen; jefct, 
„ba ic$ am erreic&ten 3ki ftefye, erftaune td[j fclbji, trie atte3 
r/ bcc^ iiber meine Srroartungen gegangen tft £a3 Sdudfal 
„Ht bie Scft trier igfeiren fitr mid) bejiegt, e? Bat mid) jum 
„3«Ic gleicbfam getragen. 2?on ber 3ufwnft boffe tdj afie& 
„3Bem'ge 3afyre, unb tdj trerbe im rotten ©enuffe mcine3 
„©etjre$ leben, ja, tcf> §ofre, tcr) trerbe trieber ju meiner 3u= 
„genb juritrffef)ren; ein mneres jDtdjterlebm gtbt mtr fte 

SIber eine fo glMtidbe Sage trurbe balb burd) etnen rjarten 
<2d)tag geftbrt Sine fieftige 23ruftfranfbeit ergrtff Sduttern im 
Slnfange beg 3a$re$ 1791, unb gerritttete feinen fb'rserltcben 3u* 
fmnb fitr [eine ganje iibrige.Men^ett 9Jcet>rere jftitdfatte lit* 
§en bag Sc^timmfte fitrditen, er Beburfte ber grb'§ten Sdionung, 
b'ffcntltcbc SBorlefungen traren t^m auferjl fdiabltd^ getrefen, unb 
atte anbern auftrengenben Sfrbetten mu^ten au^gefe^t bletben. 



* gfcen biefer giirfi: erfreute 3d)illerrt in ber gc!g« burdj fortgefc^te fdjrifN 
Iid;e Seiceife iti warmften SlntbeiU on feinen S^idfalen. 



XXVIII 

"Wieland accused him of wanting fluency, whereupon 
he wrote to Korner : 

" I feel the truth of his remarks when I am at work, 
but I am also aware where the fault lies ; and this makes 
me hope that I may improve in this respect. Ideas do 
'not stream upon me in a flood, however fruitful my works 
may be, and my ideas are not clear before I write. To 
this end it is requisite that mind and heart should be full 
of the subject before sitting down to put it on paper; a 
clear dawn of ideas must have broken, and a light-hearted 
mood is indispensable ; and if I can succeed in combining 
those three requisites, fluency will not be w T anting." 

An ambition like this, to satisfy the highest demands, 
never, however, degenerated into trivial solicitude. In 
relation to the liberty a poet may take in selecting his 
subject-matter, he thus discourses : 

" I am persuaded that every work of art is only respon- 
sible to itself; that is to say, to its own rules of beauty, 
and to no other exactions. At the same time, I am con- 
vinced that by these means it will indirectly satisfy all 
other claims, as all that is beautiful must finally find a 
n solution in -^universal truth. The poet whose 
L J only aim is beauty, but to whom that aim is 

sacred, will attain at last, without his either wishing or 
knowing it, all the other qualities ; whilst on the contrary, 
he who hesitates between beauty and morality, or what- 
ever else it may be, or perhaps aspires to both, runs the 
risk of attaining neither." 

In another letter of the same period, we find the fol- 
lowing : 

" You critics, or by whatever other name you call your- 
selves, are ashamed of, or fear any momentary or passing 
invention of the brain which is congenial to imaginative 
beings, and the longer or shorter duration of which dis- 
tinguishes the artist from the dreamer. Then arise com- 
plaints of barrenness, because you reject too soon and are 
too severe in your criticisms." 

(46) 



XXIX 

£g fam atfeg barauf an, tfm roenigjtatg auf etntge 3afjre in ctnc 
forgenfreie Sage ju serfefcen, unb ^ter^u fefyite eg in <Deutf<$lanb 
roeber an SUittcrt nod) an Sfraften ; after, et)e fur biefen 3 we ^ 
erne 23ereinigung ju ©tanbe fam, erfdjien unerroartet etne £tlfe 
aug ^anemarf* 23on bent bamaltgen Srbprtnjen, [pater regie* 
renben ^erjoge son |>olftein=3Iuguftenburg, unb »on bent ®ra= 
fen son ©djimmetmann rourbe (Sdnttern tin Safyrgefyalt »on 
taufenb 2t)a(ern auf brei 3afyre ofyne atfe 23ebingungen unb bto§ 
gu feiner 2£ieberber|Mung angebotcn, unb bieg gefci)ar) ntit einer 
getrtfjeit unb £elicateffe, bie ben Smpfdnger, rote er fdjreibt, nodj 
mefyr riibrte, aU bag Sinerbieten felbji. ^dnemarf roar eg, roo=> 
fyer einft aucfy $ I o p ft o d bie 9)iittel einer unabfydngtgen Sri* 
ftenj ertjielt, urn feinen ?C?ef(tag ju enbigen. ©efegnet fet etne fo 
ebelmitttnge £enfart, bie and) bti <Sc^tHern burd) tie glucflid)= 
ften ^olgen beloimt rourbe! 

23oflige 2Bieberf)er)Mung feiner ©efunbr)ett roar nid)t $u er* 
roarten, aber bie ^raft feineg ©eifteg, ber fid) *oom £rude ber 
d'ufjem 2Serfya'(tmjJe frei fufylte, ftegte iiber bie (gdjroddje beg 
ftb'rperg, Jlieinere Uebel sergaf} er, roenn itm tint begeifternbe 
Slrbeit ober ein ernfteg Stucium befdtdftigte, unb son fyeftigen 
2Infd(Ien btieb er oft 3afyre kng befreit ©r fyatit nod) fd)bne 
£age ju erleben, geno§ fte ntit fyeiterer Seele, unb »on btefer 
(Stimmung erntete feine Nation bie griidjte in feinen treffli^ften 
SBerfen. 

SBa&renb ber erften Safjre feineg Slufentfyalteg in 3ena roar 
©fitter ntit ben nteiften borttgen ©ekfyrten int bejren SSernety- 
men, mit $aulug, <Sd)itt3 unb .£>ufelanb in freunb* 
fd>aftlid)en SSer^d'Itnijfen, aber in ber genaueften 3Serbinbung 
mit 9fc e t it 1) o I b. S» fonnte nid)t fefyien, ba$ er baburd) auf 
bie ^antifcfye *pt)ilofopf)ie aufmerffam gemadjt rourbe, unb bafjs 
jie-ifin anjog, 2Bag er $>or$iigtic$ ftubirte, roar bie Jfrttif ber 
Urtfjeilgfcaft, unb bieg filiate itm ju pf)ilofopf}ifd?en Unterfuc^un* 
gen, beren SRefultat er in ber Slbbanblung iiber 2lnmutty 
unb SBitrbe, in serf^siebenen SXuffa^en ber Sfyalia, unb 
fyauptfdcpd) fpd'ter in ben 23rief en iiber bie dftt)etifc|c £r* 
jte^ung beg %fltn\fytn befannt macf)te. 



XXIX 

As we learn from his letters, Schiller was now in a 
cheerful frame of mind. He was enjoying the compan- 
ionship of a beloved wife, a blessing he had long wished ; 
and many favorable circumstances contributed to relieve 
him from present care, or anxiety for the future. He 
commenced his professorship under the most auspicious 
circumstances : his lectures were attended by over four 
hundred persons. He undertook the editing of certain 
memoirs, writing the introductory treatises, which, to- 
gether with the continuation of the Thalia, insured him 
a sufficient income to satisfy all his present demands. 
There was time enough yet remaining to write reviews 
for the Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung ', a periodical to which 
he had been a contributor since 1787. For the future, he 
had an engagement with the book publisher, Goeschen, 
to write a History of the Thirty Years War for a Histori- 
cal Almanac ; a German Plutarch was the work he held 
in reserve for the following years. Cheerfully and wil- 
lingly the Duke of Sacbsen-Weimar did everything in 
his power, under the circumstances, to provide a fixed 
income for Schiller. The kindness and solicitude with 
which Schiller was treated by the Coadjutor of Mayence 
and ^Governor of Erfurt, the late Prince 
Primas and Grand Duke of Frankfort, opened . 
to him the most brilliant prospects. f 

He seemed to desire nothing more to establish his do- 
mestic happiness ; his heart had chosen, and, in Febru- 
ary, 1790, he received the hand of Fraulein von Lengefeld 
in marriage. The following extracts are from his letters, 
written several months after this important event: 

" Life is quite a different thing by the side of a beloved 
wife, from what it was when so forsaken and alone, even 
in Summer. Beautiful Nature ! I now for the first time 

f This prince, in the course of a regular correspondence, always as- 
sured Schiller of his heartfelt sympathy and deep interest for his wel- 
fare ; a source of great gratification to Schiller. 

(47) 



XXX 

Slug ber $ericbe btefer tbeoretifdjen ©tubien ftnbet ftdj sort 
tfynt folgenbe fc^rtftltctje 2leufjerung : 

„3d) fyakt njor einiger 3 e ^ Sir t ft o tele g fotiit gelefen, 
„unb fie fya-t mid) nicfyt nur nid)t niebergefd)(agen unb einge- 
/r engt, fonbern tt>at)rt)aft geftarft unb erleirf)tert Vlad) ber 
„j)cintitf}en Strt, it>te bie granjofen ben % r t ft o t e I eg nefy- 
„men unb ah fetnen $orberungen ttorbetjufommen fudjen, 
„erftmrtet man eincn fatten, itliberaten unb ftetfen ©efetsgeber 
„tn il)m, unb gerabe bag ©egentfyeit ftnbet man. (£r bringt 
„mtt gcftigfeit unb Seftimmttieit auf bag SBefen, unb iiber 
„bie auf em Tinge tft er fo lax, aU man fein tat. 2Bag 
„er oom Tidjter forbert, mu§ btefer son fid) felbft forbern, 
„ft)enn er trgenb roafy, frag er tr>t(t; eg ffiefit au$ ber 9?atur 
„ber ©acfie, Tie $oetif tmnbett beinalje attgfdjliefilid) son 
„ber £ragb'bie, bie er metjr atg trgenb tint anbere poetifcfye 
„©attuug begiinftigt 9J?an merftit;m an, bajjj er aug einer 
„fet)r reid)en Srfatjrung unb SlnfcBauung t)eraugfpri$t, unb 
„eine ungefjeure ?J?euge tragifdjer 23orftetfungen $or fid) 
„f)atte. Stud) ift in feinem 23uc^e abfolut nid)t» ©peculati- 
ng, hint ©pur <oon trgenb einer £t)eorie; eg tft alteg 
„empirifcft, aber bie grofe 5ln^at)I ber %ailt unb bie glitdtidje 
„28at)t ber 9Jhtfter, bie er »cr Siugen l)at, gibt feiuen tnxpU 
„rifd)en ^Iinofpritc^eri einen attgemetnen ©efyalt unb bit $'61* 
^Itge Ciualitat son ©efefjen/' 

3n ben 3at)ren son 1790 big 1794 fourbe fein etnjigeg £)rt* 
ginalget)id)t fertig, unb blo§ bie Ueberfe^ungen aug bem SSirgil 
fatten in biefe 3^it» Sg fefylte tnbeffeu ntc^t an fiantn ju fiiiif- 
ttgen poetif^en Wxbtittn* 23efonberg toaren eg 3been ju einer 
^mne an bag 2it$t unb gu einer £t)eobicee, ttag ©cittern ba- 
maig befdjafttgte* 

„5Iuf biefe S^eobtcee," fd)refbt er, r/ freite tc^ mid) feftr, 

„benn bie neue 5tytlofo)>|)te ift gegen b;'e 2eibni$'fd)e siel 

„poetifd)er, unb bat einen gro^ern Stmrafter." 

23orjiigItd) gab tt>m bie ©efdncbt.e beg breij3igjatjrtgen $riegeg, 

bie er fiir ® ofdjeng t)iftortfd)e 2ltmanad)e »om 3at)r 1791 an 

bearbeitete, ©toff ju p.oetifd)er Sbat-.gfeih CStntge 3eit befdjaf* 

tigte ityn ber ©ebant'e, (&u\tav ^Ibotp^) jum |)elben eineg 



XXX 

fully enjoy it, live in it. The world again clothes itself 
around me in poetic forms ; old feelings are again awaken- 
ing in my breast. What a life I am leading here ! I look 
with a glad mind around me; my heart finds a perennial 
contentment without itself; my spirit so fine, so refreshing 
a nourishment. My existence is settled in harmonious 
composure; not strained and impassioned, but peaceful 
and clear. I look to my future destiny with a cheerful 
heart; now when standing at the wished-for goal, I won- 
der with myself how it all has happened, so far beyond 
my expectations. Fate has conquered the difficulties for 
me; it has, I may say, forced me to the mark. From 
the future I expect everything. A few years, and I shall 
live in the full enjoyment of my spirit ; nay, I think my 
very youth will be renewed; an -inward poetic life will 
give it me again." 

So much happiness could not last, alas ! too soon it was 
suddenly disturbed by a sad calamity. In the early part 
of 1791, a fit of sickness overtook him ; it was seated in the 
breast, and though nature overcame it in the present in- 
stance, the blessing of entire health nevermore returned 
to him. Several relapses occasioned the greatest alarm ; 
for a time his life seemed hanging on a single thread ; the 
strictest precautions became necessary ; lecturing in public 
caused the very worst effects upon his enfeebled constitu- 
tion, and a total cessation from every other intellectual 

effort had now become absolutely necessarv. 
r*xxixl 
l J ^-Everything depended upon placing him, at 

least for several years to come, in a position entirely free 
from care ; to accomplish this, there was wanting in Ger- 
many neither the will nor power ; but before it was possi ble 
to put the matter into shape, the much-needed assistance 
came very unexpectedly from — Denmark. The hereditary 
Prince, afterwards reigning Duke of Holstoin-Augusten- 
burg, jointly with the Count von Scbimmelmann, con- 
ferred on Schiller a pension of a thousand crown- for three 
years without conditions, but merely that he should take 
5 W 



XXXI 

epiftfen ©ebt$t$ px tocfylth, roie aug fctgenber ©telle, [enter 
33rtefe gu erfefyen ift: 

„Unter alien bifhrnfcfyen ©toffen, too fid) peetifcbeg 3n- 

„tereiTe nut nationettem unb poiitifdjem nod) nm metften 

„gattet, ftebt ©uftao Sibolol) oben an. — Die @ef$t#ie 

„ber 5)?enfd)hctt ge^fa'rt alg unentbebjlicbe (Spifobe m fete 

^efdndue ber Reformation, unb biefe ift mit bem breijjfg- 

„jabrigen Sriege un^ertrennlid) oerbunben. So fommt alfo 

„bU$ auf ben orbnenbeu ©eift JbeS Differs an, in etnem 

^elbengebtti&t, bag oon ber ©djlacfyt bei Seipjtg big jur 

„Sd)lad)t bet 2ii£cn gel)t, bie ganje ©efc^idne ber 5Wenfdfo* 

„bett unge^onngen, unb jroar mit roeit meijr 3ntereffe ju 

„be:anbeiu, aU roenn bieg ber £>auptfteff getocfen xsaxt/' 

3iU5 eben btefer 3«t Mt aud) bie erfte 3bee jum 25 a Hen-' 

jretrt. 3Hg fcbon tm 3af)re 1792 biefe 3bee jur 2Iugfut)rung 

fommen fotlie, fd)rteb Stiller baritber golgenbeg; 

„Sigentlid) ift eg bo$ nur hk Stunft felbft, roo td) meiue 
r/ Srafte fii^le; in ber S^eerte mu§ icb mid? immer mit 
„$rtn§tptenplagen; ba hin id) btc§ Siiettanh 2Iber urn 
„ber Stuguburtg felbft rotffen pt)itofopbiere id) geru iiber bie 
„£r;eorie. Xk Mxitit mu§ mir je|t felbft ben ©d)aben er* 
„fei3en, ben fte mir jugefitgt f)at. Unb gefdjabet t>at jte mir 
„tn ber Zhat; benn bie iUtfmbeit, bie lebenbige ©iut, bie 
„id) fjatte, ef>e mir ncdj eine Regel befannt roar, oermtffe 
„tc^ fd)on feit me^reren 3al)rett. 34> fefyemid) je£t er- 
„fd?affen unb bilben, id) beobactjte bag ©ptel ber 23e= 
„geifterung, unb meine Smtnlbunggrraft betragt ftc|> mit 
„minber greii)eit, feitbem fte fid) nic^t mefyr ofyne 3 cu 3 en 
„roeifi. 23iu id) aber erft fo roeit, ba§ mir .ftunftmafjig* 
„feit jnr 9fotur ioirb, roie efnem rooblgejTtreten 9J?enfd i en 
„bie Gr$tebung, fo erbatt aud) bie $bantafie ttjre oorige 
„greibeit roieber juriicf, unb fe£t jt$ f'eine aubere alg fret- 
„roiifige ©djranfen/' 

5Iber eg foilten nod) fteben %\§xt sergefjen, efje ber 5Balten= 
ftein fertig rourbe, unb eg gab emeu 3eitpunft ber *Dhttbloftgf'eit, 
ba ©duller bicfeg SBerf beina^e ganj aufgegeben fyatte. 3n 
feinen 23riefeu pom Saljre 1794 ftnoet fid; folgenbe ©telle; 



XXXI 

care of his health. This prompt and unlooked-for aid wag 
presented with a delicacy and politeness, which, as Schil- 
ler himself writes, touched him more than even the gift 
itself. 

It was from Denmark likewise that Klopstock received 
the necessary means to complete his Messias. Blessed be 
this generous way of thinking, which, in Schiller's case, 
was rewarded with the happiest results. 

A complete restoration to health was not to be expected, 
but his vigorous and ardent spirit, feeling free from the 
pressure of outward circumstances, triumphed over physi- 
cal weakness. Often, in the glow of poetic conception, or 
when engaged in earnest and deep study, he forgot his 
lesser ills entirely, and for years he was free from any 
severe attacks. He had many happy days yet to live, and 
he enjoyed them with a cheerful spirit; from this happy 
frame of mind his country harvested the fruits, in the best 
of his works. 

During the first years of Schiller's stay at Jena, he was 
on the best terms with most of the great scholars of the 
times ; his relations with Paulus, Schuetz, and Hufeland, 
were very friendly ; but he was most intimate with Kein- 
hold. From his relations with these men, it was naturally 
to be expected that his attention would be drawn to the 
Kantian Philosophy, and that it would receive his favor- 
able consideration. What he studied more especially, was 
the Kritik der Urtheilskraft (Critique of the Faculty 
of Judging) ; this led him to philosophical researches, 
the results whereof are given in his essays on Grace and 
Dignity ; in several articles to be found in the Thalia, and, 
afterwards, chiefly in the Letters on the JEsthetic Culture 
of Man. 

*We make the following extracts from Schil- 
ler's letters, written during the time he was en- L J 

gaged in these theoretical studies : 

"I have lately been reading Aristotle on Poetry, and 
far from restricting my ideas, it has strengthened and 

(49) 



XXXTt 

„53or btefer SXrBett (bem SBatl'enfretn) ift mtr orbentlicij 

„angft unb Bang, benn ic$ glaube mit jebem £age mefyr ju 

„fmben, bag tcf> etgentltdj nid;td toeing er oorfletten.famt, aid 

„einen £)idjter, unb bafj l)bd)ftend ba, too id) pfytlofop&ierett 

„tt>tCC, ber j>oeh'f$e ®eift mity itberrafd)t SDad foil id) 

„n)nn? 34> toage an biefe Unternefymung fteben Bid ad)t 

„9Jconate oon meinem Seben, bag i(^ Urfac^e f)abc fe^r ju 

„fJtatf)t ju tyalten, unb fc£e mid) ber ©efatjr aud, etn oer- 

„tmglucfred gjrobuct ju erjeugen, 23ad id) im £)ramatifd)ett 

„jur SBelt gebrad&t, ift nidjt fef>r gefcfyidt, ntir 50?utt) ju 

„mad)en* 3m eigentlicfyften ©inne bed 2Bortd betvete \<fy 

„ti\\t mtr ganj unbefannte, ioenigfrend unoerjudjte 33afyn; 

„benn im ^oetifdjen fyabt i§ feit bret V\$ oier Safyren einen 

„ooIItg neuen SJftenfcfyen angejogetn" 

9ftt$t Jange oor biefen Sleufjermtgen fiatte (©fitter eine S^e- 

oiftou feitter ©ebidjte oorgenommen, unb aud fetnen bamaligen 

Slnft'djten iotrb bie (©trenge begretfltdj, mit ber er feine friifoem 

$robucte befyanbelte. ®leidjtoo§l barf man nicfyt glauben, bafj 

itberljaupt bamald eine i^o^onbrifdje ©ttmmung bur$ fbrper* 

lidje £eiben Ui tym fyeroorgebracfyt toorben ioare* SSftefyrere 

©teflen aud feinen SBrtefcn betoeijen, bajj er eben in biefer $tit 

fitr begeifternbe SBirffamfeit unb fiir eblern Sebendgenuf ni^td 

toentger aid erftorben toar. 

Slid nad) 2tudbrud) ber fran$b'ftfdjen toolntion bad @#tcffal 
Subtoigd XVI. entf4>ieben toerben fottte, fc^rieb ©filler im 
-December 1792 golgenbed an eineu greunb: 

„2Bei§t bu mir niemanb, ber gut ind granjoftfefje itber* 
„fe£te, toenn icf) ettoa in ben gatt fame, ifm ju braudjen? 
„$aum faun icf) ber 33erfut$uttg toiberfteiien, mid) in bie 
„©treitfac$e toegen bed Sontgd etnjumtf^en unb eine Sitte* 
„moire bariiber ju fdjreiben, SDcir fc$etnt biefe Unternefy* 
„mung toidjttg genug, urn bie geber eined SSemunfttgen ju 
„befd)afttgen, unb tin beutfe^er (©d&rtftfietter, ber ficfy mit 
„$refl)eit unb Serebfamfett iiber biefe (©treitfrage erflart, 
„oiirfte ioafyrfcfieinlici) auf biefe ndjtungdlofen Sb'ofe einen 
„&inbrud mad)en. SBenn ein Sinjtger aud einer ganjen 
Ration tin bffentltc|ed Urt^eil fagt, fo ift man toenigftend 



XXXII 



encouraged me. To judge from the views taken by French 
writers of Aristotle, one would expect to find a cold, 
illiberal legislator, but he is quite the reverse. He pene- 
trates the very heart of his subject with, firmness and pre- 
cision, and in relation to the outward forms, is as liberal 
as a person can possibly be. "What he demands of the 
Poet the Poet must demand of himself, if he at all knows 
what he would have ; it follows from the very nature of 
the thing. His poetry treats almost exclusively of tragedy, 
which he favors more than any other species of composi- 
tion. We see at once that he speaks from rich, experience 
and keen observation, and that he was rich in tragic con- 
ceptions. There is absolutely nothing speculative in his 
book, not a trace of any theory : it is all empirical, but the 
great number of subjects and the happy choice of models 
that he had before his eyes, give a general worth, and the 
necessary quality of law, to his assertions." 

From 1790 to 1794, Schiller did not complete a single 
original- poem; only the translations from Virgil belong 
to this period. But he was, nevertheless, busy with plans 
for future poetical labor. His mind was particularly 
occupied, at this time, with the idea of composing a Hymn 
to Light and a Theodicea. 

He writes : " I look forward with pleasure to this 
Theodicea; the modern school of philosophy is much 
more poetical than Leibnitz's, and of a much higher 
character." 

It was especially the History of the Thirty Years' War, 
which he was writing for Goschen's Historical Almanac 
since 1791, that gave him matter for poetical activity. 
For a time he thought of making G-ustavus Adolphus the 
hero of an *epic poem, as is shown by the fol- 
*- J lowing extracts from his letters : 

" Of all historical subjects, where poetical interest is 
most closely blended with national and political, Gustavus 
Adolphus stands pre-eminent. The History of Mankind 
belongs, as an indispensable episode, to the History of the 

(50) 



xxxm 



„attf itn erfren ginbnttf genetgt, ibn aU ©ortfuljm fetner 

„5Uaffe, too nt$t feiner Nation, anjufeben, unb idj glaube, 
„ba£ bte graiQofen gerabe in btefer Sa^e gegen frembeS 
^Urt^eil nidn gang unempftnblid; finb. Slujjerbem tjr gerabe 
„biefer ©toff fe^r gefebtrft baju, ehte fotcbe 2}ertbeibigung 
„ber guten Sad?e gu^uIajTen, bie feinem 9Jii§braudj au3ge* 
„fefct tjh 3>r Scbriftfteller, ber fitr bte Sadie be3 ftonigg 
„bffentltdj ftrettet, barf bti btefer ©elegentiett f$cn etnt'ge 
„toicbt{ge SBabr^etten mebj fagen, aU tin attberer, unb b,at 
„aud) fd)on etttaS mebr Gtrebth SStelleidjt ratbft bit mtr 
„3U fcircetgen, aber tcf) glaube, bafj man Bet [eleven Slnlaifen 
„ntd?t inbolent unb unt(;attg bleiben barf, £a'tte jeber fret- 
„gefutnte 5?opf gefdjnuegen, fo toareme etn Scbrittjtt unferer 
„2}erbefferung gefrfjefjen. (S3 gtbt ^dttn, too man 5feirt= 
„lufl fpred>en mu§, fteit ©mpfanglu^feitbafiir ba ijr, unb efne 
„fo(d)e 3 e ^ f^etnt mtr bte je^tge ju fern/' 
5rt ber 2Jfflte beg 3abre3 1793 fcfcrtefc Slider: „£}ie Stebe 
jum SSaterlanb tft febj lebbaft in mtr getoorbem" 

Sr unternabm bte Sfteffe nadj Scbtoaben, lebte Pom Qtugufl an 
bt3 jum Tied be3 folgenben 3abre3 tbeils in £ei(bronn, tb etis in 
SubtotgSBurg, unb freute ftd? be» SSteberfefyeng fetner (Silent, 
Scbrcefrern uttb Sugenbfreunbe* 2>on £>eilbronn aus fd)rieb er 
an ben £erjog PonSBitrttemberg, gegenbener ftc^ burd^ 
feine Snrfermmg pou (Stuttgart Pergangen batte. ©r erbielt 
jtoar feine Slntttort, aber bie 9£adjru§t, ber ^erjeg l)abe offend 
lid) geaujjerr: Sduller toerbe nad) Stuttgart fommen unb pon 
ifmt ignorirt ioerben. £ie3 beftimmte Sdnllern, feine Sftetfe 
fortyafefcen, unb er fanb in ber golge, ka$ er ni&)i§ babei getragt 
fjatte. 2ludj bctrauerte er eben biefen -^erjog, ber furj nad^er 
ftarb, mit einem innigen ©cfitbje ber ©anf&atfett unb 35erebrung» 
S d) i II e r fefcrte nad) 3ena juritd, poll pou einem febon lange 
enteorfenen, aber nun reif getocrbenen Pane, bie porjitglicbften 
S^rtftfteUer -Deurfdjlanbg ju enter 3ettfd)rift ju pereinigen, bie 
attcS iibertrejfen feflte, toa§ jentaU pon biefer ®at- 
tung eriftirt ^atte. Gin untentebmenber Serleger toar baju 
gefunben, unb bie £erau3gak ber ^oren tourbe befcb[cjTen. 
Sie Xfyalia Wat mit bem Safyrgang 1793 geenbtgt toorben, 

emitters fammtt. ©erfe. I. Ill 



XXXIII 

Reformation, and the latter is so intimately connected 
with the Thirty Years' War, as to be inseparable from it. 
It, therefore, depends entirely upon the Poet's order of 
arrangement, to treat, in a manner free from all con- 
straint, in a heroic poem, commencing with the battle of 
Leipsic, and ending with the battle of Liitzen, of the 
whole history of mankind; and, in reality, with much 
more interest than if it had been the principal subject." 

It was during this period that he first conceived the 
idea of Wallenstein. In 1792, when this scheme was to 
be put into execution, Schiller wrote in relation thereto 
as follows: 

" I feel it is only in practice that I recognize my pow- 
ers; in theory I always bother myself with principles, 
and feel that I am only a dilettante. But, for practice' 
sake, I like a philosophical discussion on theories. Criti- 
cism must now make good to me the damage she herself 
has done ; and damaged me she most certainly has ; for 
the boldness, the living glow which 1 felt before a rule 
was known to me, have, for several years been wanting. 
I now see myself create and form : I watch the play of 
inspiration ; and my fancy, knowing she is not without 
witnesses of her movements, no longer moves with equal 
freedom. I hope, however, ultimately to advance so far 
that art shall become a second nature, as polished manners 
are to well-bred men ; then imagination will regain her 
former freedom, and submit to none but voluntary limi- 
tations." 

But seven years were yet to elapse before the world 
should become acquainted with Schiller's immortal work, 
Wallenstein; there occurred a period of despondency, dur- 
ing which it occasionally appeared as if Schiller was on 
the point of abandoning Wallenstein altogether. 

In his letters of 1794 we find the following : 

*" This work (Wallenstein) causes me great r ^ 
fears as to its success, for every day I imagine *• -* 

I discover that I am more and more deficient in poetical 

(51) 



xxxrv 

ftiir bte neue 3-tff^rtft offneten ftcfj fe$r gitttflrtge Stu^ftditen, tmb 
auf bte Sinlabungen jur £f)eimet)mung erfolgten son alien (Set- 
ten meloerfpredjenbe Shtrttorten. 

3ena errjielt bamaU fax ©djittent emeu neuen dlti$, ba SBtl- 
tjelm j). £ u m B o I b t,* ber altere Srttber be3 berur)mten 9M= 
fettben, fief) bafytn BegeBen fyatte, unb mtt <Sd)t[(ern bort in ber 
genaueften SSer&tnbnng teBte. 3n btefe £tit trip anc^ ber 5ln= 
fang be3 fdionen nnb nadjfjer immer fefter gefrtupften 23unbe3 
^totf^ctt ©oetfye nnb (Stiller, ber fur beibe ben 2Bertl) 
ifyre3 SebenS erfyityte. UeBcr bte 23eranlaffwtg btefeS ©retgntjfeS 
ftnben fid) folgenbe (Stetten in Sdn'tfer^ SBriefen: 

„33et meiner 3ttritcfr , uttft 0><m etner bamaltgen fletnen 
„fRti\t) fanb icf> etnert fefyr fjerjlidjen Srief son ©oetfye, 
„ber mtr mtt 2>erfrcuten entgegen fommt. SBtr fatten oor 
„fet§3 2Dod)en itBer Shmjl nnb 5tunftt^eorie em Sanger nnb 
„S3rette3 gefpro$en nnb unS bie £>auptibeen mttgetfjetlt, ju 
„benen iotr auf ganj.&erf$iebencn SBegen gefommen roarem 
„3roifd)en biefen 3been fanb ftc$ etne unerwartete tteberem- 
„fnmmung, bte urn fo intereffanter tear, roeit fie i-Dtrfltc^ au3 
„ber grb'fiten SSerfdnebenfyeit bet ©eficbtopunfte ^ersorging* 
„Sm jeber fonnte bem anbern etioaS geBen, roa» tym fefjUe, 
„unb etroas bafiir empfangen. Sett biefer $tit fjaben btefe 
„auggeftreuten 3been Bei © o e t $ e n 2Burjel gefafjt, unb er 
„fiti)It jejjt etn 23ebitrfntj?, fid? an mi$ anjuf^ltejjen unb ben 
„23eg, ben er Bt^eraftein unb o^ne 2iufmunterung Betrat, 
„mit mir fertjufeijen. 3d) freuc mi$ fe(>r auf einen fur 
„mid) fo fru^tbaren 3beentoed)fel" — 

„3$ toerbe fiinfttge ©ccfje auf ^ter^er)n £age nadj 2Bet* 
„mar reifen unb bet © o e 1 1) e rootmeiu Sr t)at mtr fo fet)r 
„gugerebet, bafj tc§ mid) ntd)t roeigern fonnte, ba ic^ a He 
„mogItd>e Oretfjett unb 23 eq item ltd) feit Bet iiim ftnben foil, 
„Uttfere nafiere 23erii()rung roirb fur unS Beibe entfdjeibenbe 
„golgen fyaben, unb ity freuc mu# tnntg barauf." 



*<Sief)e: 53rtefme6tel jroif^en ©filler unb ©itfielm »on 
^umbolfct. 2JIU einer SScrerinnerung ii&er S emitter unb ten (Sang fetnet 
©eifteeentwtcfetung son 2Q. a. Jpumbotbt. ©tuttgart unc Siibiusen. 
5. ©. Sotta'fdje Sudj^anbtung. 1830. 



XXXIV 

representation, and that the spirit of poetry only visits 
me at times, when I am in a philosophical vein. What 
shall I do? I risk seven or eight months of my life on 
this enterprise, which I have good reason to place in 
doubt, and run the risk of bringing forth an abortion. 
What I have hitherto produced in the dramatic line, is 
not exactly of a nature to encourage me to proceed. I 
am, in fact, treading upon ground perfectly new, and 
hitherto unexplored by me, for within the last three or 
four years I have put on quite the new man in poetical 
compositions." 

A short time previous to these declarations, Schiller had 
undertaken the revision of his poems ; the opinions he 
then expressed, explain with what severity he judged and 
treated his early productions. Yet, it must not be sup- 
posed for a moment, that his bodily sufferings had given 
a hypochondriac turn to his former happy disposition. 
Many points in his letters prove conclusively that just at 
this period, his love and taste for inspiring work, and for 
the nobler and more refining pleasures of life, were any- 
thing but deadened. 

After the outbreak of the French Revolution , when the 
destiny of Louis XVI was about to be decided, Schiller 
wrote, in December, 1792, the following to a friend : 

" Do you know of any one capable of putting German 
into good French, as I may stand in need of such a man? 
It is all I can do to resist the desire of mixing myself up 
in this affair of the king's, and writing a pamphlet upon it. 
I think this subject worthy of a serious treatment; and 
a German author, who would come forward and give his 
opinion boldly and eloquently, could not fail of making 
an impression on these misguided beings. When a man 
comes forward alone, and publicly expresses an opinion, 
.. people are inclined, *at first at least, to re- 
gard him. as expressing the opinions of his 
class, if not of his nation ; and I am of opinion that in this 
affair the French are rather sensitive as to the opinions 

(52) 



XXXV 

„2Bir fyrtBett ettte dorrefponbenj mtt etnanber itBer ge* 

„mifd)te 3ftateriett befd/ioffen,* btc cine Quelle son Sluf- 

„fa§en fitr bte £oren toerben foil Sluf btefe Sfcrt, meint 

^©oet'fye, fief ante ber gieig erne beftimmte ^idnuug, unb, 

„oime jn merfen, bap man arbeiiet, befame man SftatertaUctt 

^ufammen* 2)a totr tn ivtc^tigen ©ad)en einftimmig unb 

„bo$ fo ganj t>erfd)tebene 3nbfoibualita'ten finb, fo lann biefe 

„(£orrefpottben$ toixftity iniereffant joerbctt," 

%Rit bem folgenben 3a!)re 1795 beginnt Bet ©dutfem etne 

neue $ertobe ber poetifdjen gntdjtbarfcit. ©o fefyr tf)n and; bte 

ttene 3eitf$rift befdmftigte, fo entftanben bod) gtetd;roo^I mefyrere 

©ebicfyte, bte tfyeilg tit bte ^oren, tfyeilg in ben 3Wufettatmana($ 

aufgenontmen ttmrben, beffen $erauggabe ©fitter unternaljm* 

T)a^ 0tetd; ber ©fatten ober bag 3beal unb bag Seben, 

bte (Slegte ober ber ©bajtergang ttnb bte 3beale toarcit 

>Probucte biefeg 3at)reg, £>te Slegte tyielt ©fitter fiir eineg 

fetner geluitgenften SBerfe* 

,ffiix baudjt," fc^rieb er batitber, „bag fidjerfte emptrif^e 
„$vitertum son ber toafyren poetifdjen ©it te meineg $robuctg 
„biefeg jn fein, bafs eg bte ©timmung, toorin eg gefattt, nid)t 
„erft abtuartet, fonbern fyer&orbrtngt, alfo in jeber ®cmutf)g= 
„Iage gefattt Unb bieg tft ntir nodj mtt leinem meiner 
„©tiicfe begegnet, aU mtt biefcm*" 
Ueber bie 3beale futbet jtdj folgenbe 5len§ernng son tfjmt 
„£)ieg ©ebicfyt tft metyr em 9taturlaut, roie Berber e$ 
„nennen ttitrbe, nnb ate eine (Stimme beg ©drmerjeng, bte 
„funfilog nnb tiergleidmnggtoeife and) formlog tft, ju betradjj- 
„ten* Sg tft ju inbiinbueft foafyr, urn aU efcjentlidje $oefte 
// beurtf)etlt tterben jtt Ib'nnen; bemt bag 3nbimbuum befrie- 
„bigt babei em Scbitrfnijj, eg etieidjtert fid) son einer Safr, 
„anftatt bafj eg in ©efangen son anberer 2lrt, t>on einem 
„Uebcrf(uffe getrieben, bem ©cbopfunggbrange nadjgibt Die 
„(gmpfmbung, attg ber eg entfprang, tfjeiit eg aud) mit, nnb 
„auf mel;r mad;t eg, feinem ©e[d)Ied;te na$, nid;t 2lnfprucf>/' 



*<Siefie: 23rtefw ecfi fel jtotfdjen @dj titer unb © oet fie tit ben 
Safiren 1794 Ms 1805. Stuttgart unb Slitfimgeit. 3. ©. £ o 1 1 a 'fcfie Sud)» 
fiaufciung. 1829-30. 



XXXV 



of others ; added to which, the subject offers every advan- 
tage for the defence of the good cause, which is not open 
to abuse. The writer who takes up publicly the cause of 
the king, will be - allowed, by the very circumstances, to 
express a few more truths than any other, and will be 
more readily believed. You will perhaps advise me to 
hold my tongue ; but I am of opinion that with such a 
stimulus, a man ought not to remain a silent spectator. 
If every free-minded man had remained silent, no steps 
would ever have been taken towards the amelioration of 
mankind. There are moments when a man must speak 
out, as the inclination drives him on, and the present 
seems to me to be such a moment." 

In the middle of 1793, Schiller wrote: 

" The love of my country has become vivid within me, 
and the Suabian, whom I thought I had lain aside, is 
stirring mightily." 

He undertook a journey to Suabia, and remained there 
from August to May of the following year, partly in Heil- 
bronn, and partly in Ludwigsburg, and he was granted 
the pleasure of again meeting his parents, sisters, and the 
friends of his youth. From Heilbronn, Schiller indited a 
letter to the Duke of Wurtemberg, whom he had seriously 
offended by absenting himself from Stuttgard without 
leave. It remained unanswered, but he ascertained that 
the Duke had thus publicly expressed himself: "Schiller 
will come to Stuttgard, and will be ignored by me." 
From this, Schiller determined to continue his journey, 
and he afterwards found that he had risked nothing by 
doing so. He also mourned the Duke's death, which 
occurred shortly afterwards, with a deep feeling of grati- 
tude and respect. 

Schiller returned to Jena, full of enthusiasm for one of 
his favorite projects, now, however, matured, which was 
to unite the best writers of Germany in the formation of 
a periodical, intended to surpass anything of the kind ever 
before attempted. 

(53) 



XXXVI 



,/DaS ditift ber ©fatten/' fdpret&t er ferner, „fft 
„mit ber Glegte t)erglid)en, fclofj etn Seforgebtcbt. SBare 
„ber Snfyali fo fcoetifd) auggefiibrt roorben, rote ber 3nfyalt 
„ber (?(egie, fo toare eg in geroiffem (Sin'ne Hit Maximum 
„geroefen. tlnb bag roitt tc^ tterfucben, foBttlb t(^ ^ftufje 
„befomme* 3d) roitt erne 3b^IIe fcfyrrtbat, tote tt^ l;tet 
„eine Slegte fcbrieb, 5ltte mettte toetifcbm ^rafte [penmen 
„fid) m btefer Gnergte an — bad 3beal btr ©djonljrit object 
„tfe m mbioibualbfiren, urn baraug erne 3b^Ue in m etn em 
„©mtte $u bilbem 34> tfyeiie namlid) bag ganje getb ber 
„$oejte in bie naioe unb bie f enttnt etttal if t^j e. £>te naioe 
„t)at gar feme Unterarteit (in 3fJitd[id)t auf bit Smpjmbiutgg- 
„roetfe namltd)), bie fentimentaltfdje t)at tf)rer bret: (Sartre, 
„©legte, Sb^ie. 3n ber feutimentait(d)en £id)tranjt (unb 
„aug btefer fjeraug fann tcf) nid)t) tjr bie Sbgfle bag t)ed)fte, 
„aber aufy bag fd)Ji)iertgfre problem* Sg roirb namlid) auf* 
„gegeben, ofme SBetytlfe beg $atbog etnen fyoben, ja ben 
„t)od)ftett koetifdien (Effect fyerocrmbrmgem ?0cettt S^etd) 
„ber ©fatten entimlt bam nnr bie Sftegetn ; tfjre 23efot= 
„gung in eincm etnjemen gatle rottrbe bie Sb^fte, son ber 
,/td) rebe, erjeugen. 3d) fyabt ernft(id) tm ®inne, ba fortm= 
„fafyren, roo bag £ftetd) ber ©fatten auft)b'rt. ©te 
^ermafylung beg ^erculeg mit ber £ebe roitrbe ber 3nr)alt 
„meiner Sb^lTe fern* tteber biefen ©toff fymaug gibt eg fei- 
„nen mefyr fin* ben $oeten, benn btefer barf bie menfdjtidje 
„vftatur nidit serlajfen, unb eben son biefem Uebertritt beg 
tffimffim in ben ©ott roitrbe biefe Sb^lle fyanbeht* Die 
„£aubiftgttren toarm jroar febon ©otter, a'ber buret) £ercu* 
„teg faun i^ fie nod) an bie 9Jcenfd)beit anmitpfen, unb eine 
„$8eroegung in bag ©emaibe bringem ©elange mir bte= 
„feg Unteruebmen, fo fyoffte id) baburd) mit ber fentimentalt* 
„fd)en $oefie iiber bie nam feibft rrtumpt)irt m r)aben/' 

„Gtne fold) e 3b$ lie roitrbe eigent(id) bag ©egenftitcf ber 
„t)ol)en Combine (etn unb fte auf einer <&titt (in ber 3"orm) 
„gan$ nabe beriibrert, inbem fie auf ber anbern unb tm 
,,3toff bag birefte ©egentbetl bason roare, X)ie ^omobie 
^fc^lte^t nam!i(| g(eid)faUg alleg tyatfyos aug, aber il)r ©toff 



XXXVI 



An enterprising publisher was soon found, and the pub- 
lication of the Horen was determined. The Thalia was 
consequently relinquished at the end of 1793. *The pros- 
r-x. -i P ec ts for the success of the new periodical 

*- -" were encouraging ; the answers from those 

who had been called upon to contribute, were, in most 
cases, satisfactory, promises and words of encouragement 
flowing in from all sides. 

About this time Jena possessed a new charm for Schiller, 
in the person of "William von Humboldt, f the older 
brother of the celebrated traveler, Alexander, who had 
come thither, and was now among his closest associates. 
Nearly at the same time, too, Schiller and Goethe first 
entered into bonds of eternal friendship, — beautiful and 
noble in itself, admired by the world. It added much 
to the worth of both of their lives. The following ex- 
tracts from Schiller's letters will explain how this cir- 
cumstance, so pregnant with great events for both, was 
brought about. 

" On my return (from a short journey) I found a most 
friendly letter from Goethe, who comes frankly forward. 
Some six weeks since we had a long and animated discus- 
sion on Art and its theories, exchanging our respective 
conclusions, which we derived from entirely different 
reasons. Curiously enough, our ideas coincided ; a fact 
which was the more interesting, since the points of view 
from which we started were diametrically opposed. We 
were enabled to exchange our ideas to the profit of both. 
Since this conversation, these scattered ideas have struck 
root in Goethe, and he now feels the want of drawing 
closer to me, and of taking me as a companion in the path 
he has hitherto trod alone. I rejoice in this prospect of 



t See Correspondence between Schiller and William von Humboldt. With 
a preliminary treatise, by William von Humboldt, on Schiller, and 
upon the development of his mind. Stuttgard and Tubingen : J. G. 
Cotta, 1830. 

(54) 



xxxvn 

„tfr bte SBirflicMeit: ber ©toff biefer 3b^He tji bag 
„3beaU £ie Somobte tji bagjenige in ber Satire, toa3 
„bag -])robuct quaestionis in ber 3b 9 lie (biefe alg ein 
„eigeneg fentimentaltfdieg ©ef($(e$t betraditet) fetrt ttiirbe, 
„3etgte eg fid), bap erne foldje 23ef)anbluttg ber 3b$lle un= 
„augfiil)rBar toarc — bafi fid) bag 3beal ntcfct tnbtstbualt- 
„jirett Iie£e — fo nntrbe bie ^emb'bie bag fyb'djfte poett* 
,,fd)e SBerf fetrt, fiir tt>elc^e3 icfy fie immer geljalten t)abe, big 
„icf) anftng, an bie 3J?ogl{d)feit etner foldjen Sbplle ju glau= 
„ben. £en£en 3te fid? aber bcnd)enn§, in etner ^oettft^cn 
„Tarftellung alleg Stcrblidje auggelbfdu, lantcr 2id)t, lau= 
„ter gretl)eit, lauter 23ermb'gen — hintn Scfyatten, feine 
„Sd)ranfett, nidng son bent alien tneljr jn feljen* — 9!ftir 
„fd!nunbelt, ioemt iti) an 'biefe Slufgabe, toenn idp an bie 
„ffi6ali$Uit iljrer 2Iuflb'fung benfe. 3d) serjttmfle nid)t 
,,gair 5 baran, toettn mem ©emiitl) nnr erft ganj fret unb 
,/oon ailent Unxatl) ber ©irfltcofetr rec^t rein gen>afd)en ijr; 
„id) nel;me bann meine ganje $raft unb ben ganjen attjeri* 
,>fc&en STIjetl metner 9catur nod) auf Stnmal jufammen, 
„icenn er au$ bei btefer ©elegenfyeitrem follte aufgebraucbt 
„toerben. gragcn Sie mid) aber nacf) nityt§* 3d) ^)ciU 
„blo£ no$ ganj fcbmanfenbe SSilber bason unb nur tjter 
M «ttb ba einjeme 3 u 3 e * ^ n I«nge3 ©tubieren nnb <Stre= 
„ben ntu§ mid) erjr lefyren, oh etttag 3efcg, Q51afttft^e^ 
„baraug tcerben fantu" 

£ag Xrauerfpiel toar mbeffen bie £>eimatl), in ber ©duller 
audi) in ber bamaligen (Stimmuug balb toieber ^uriicfte^rte* 
Slug ber ©efdndjte ber titrftfdien Selagerung son 9JJaItf)a Ijatte 
er einen Stojf ftc| auggebadjt, toobei er yiel oon bent ©ebraudj 
beg Sborg erraartete. 23on biefcnt ©tiicfe — ben bittern 
^on SDtalttya — fhtbet ftdj ber 55 (an in 3d)itlerg 9?ad)(affe, 
unb bte Slugfitbrung ftutrbe bamalg blof aufgefc^oben, ba er fid) 
im VJlai 1796 fiir ben 2B a II en ft ein entfdjteb* 

„3d) felje mid)/' fdjrteb er bantalg, /r auf einent fe^r 
„guten ©cge, ben id) nur fortfe^en barf, urn ettoag ©uteg 
/^eworjubringen. ©teg ift fd)cn stel unb auf alte gaUe 
„fc§r uiel me^r, alg ii$ in biefem gac|e fonjr »on mir rit^ 



XXXVII 

an interchange of ideas, from which I shall derive such 
benefit." — 

"Next week I shall go to Weimar, to spend a fortnight 
with Goethe. He sent me so pressing an invitation that I 
could not well refuse it, as he has proffered every comfort 
and freedom to me. Our nearer acquaintance will be at- 
tended with important results for us both, and I rejoice 
in it beforehand." 

*" We have resolved to correspond with each 
other on various subjects,! our object being ■- -■ 

thereby to procure various articles for the Horen. By 
these means, G-oethe is of opinion that assiduity will be 
forced into a more direct channel ; and that, without our 
being aware that we are working, materials will gradually 
be collected. As we agree on so many important points, 
at the same time that we individuallydiffer so much, this 
correspondence may really become interesting." 

With the following year (1795) begins a new period of 
poetic fruitfulness with Schiller. Much as his new jour- 
nal occupied him, still he composed several poems, which 
appeared part in the Horen, part in the Musen- Almanack, 
which Schiller had undertaken to publish. The Realm 
of Shadows, or the Ideal and Life, the Elegy, or the Walk, 
and the Ideals, were products of this year. The Elegy 
Schiller esteemed as one of his most successful works. 

"This seems to me," he wrote, "the surest empirical 
criterion of the true poetic goodness of my production, 
that it does not wait for the mood of mind to which it 
can give pleasure, but calls it out, and so pleases in every 
mood. And this has happened with no piece of mine, ex- 
cept this." 

About the Ideals we find him using these expressions : 
il This poem is rather to be regarded as a cry of nature, 
(ein Naturlaut), as Herder would call it, and as a voice 



f See Correspondence between Schiller mid Goethe, from 1794 to 1805. 
Stuttgard and Tubingen : J. G. Cotta, 1829-30. 

(55) 



XXXVIII 

„mctt fonnte* 25orbem legte t$ bag ganje ©etotdjt m bte 
„9ftefyrfyeit beg (Smjelncn; jeijt totrb alleg auf bte £otalttat 
„bered;met, unb tcf) toerbe micfj bemitfyen, benfelben ffttify* 
„tf)um tm (Stnjefnctt mtt ebettfo stelem Slufwanbe son Sunfi 
„ju »erjtecfen, alg id) fonft angetoanbt, tfm m jetgen, um 
„bag (gtnjelne rec^t borbrmgen p laffen. SBenn tc$ eg audj 
„anberg tootlte, fo erlaubt eg mtr bte 9?atur ber <&a<fyt ntd)t, 
„benn SBallenjretn if* em SfmraFter, ber — alg edit 
,/reaUfttfcf) — nur tm ©anjen, aber nte tm (Smjelnen tn* 
„terefftren funm — „(£r fyctt ntdjtg (Sbleg, er erfdjemt in 
„Fetnem etnjelnen 2ebengctcte gro§, er f)at toemg SBiirbe unb 
„bergl — 3d) fyoffe aber ntc^tgbeftotoentger, auf rein rea* 
„Itftt[d}em 2Bege etnen bramattfd) grofjen Gtfyarafter in tfym 
„auf$ufretten, ber em ec^te^ £ebengprmctp Ijat. SSorbem 
„\)<xbt id), totetm $ofa unb Sari eg, bte fefylenbe SBafyr* 
„t)ett burdj fcptie Sbealttat m erfetjen gefucfyt; I)ter tm 
„QB a II e n ft e t n toil! u$> e$ proMren, unb burd) bte Mofije 
„2Bafyrfyeft fiir bte fefylenbe 3bealttat (bte fenttmentalt|"$e 
„namltd)) entfdjabtgen* 

„;Dte Slufgabe totrb baburdj fd)toer, aber and) tnterejfan- 
„ter, ba§ ber etgentltcfje Sftealtem ben (Srfolg noting fyat, ben 
„ber tbealtfcfye Sfyarafter entbefyren fann. Ungliicflic^erwetfe 
„aber fyat Sffiallenftetn ben ©rfolg gegen fid), ©cine 
„Untentefymung tft moraltfdj fd;tecf>t, unb fie serunglitcft 
^^ftfd). Sr tft tm Smjelneit nte grojjj, unb tin ©angert' 
„fomtnt er um fetnen 3totd* ® r ^ antt i*4> n ^ tote ber 
// 3bealtft / m ftdj felbft emfcuflen unb ftcfy iiber bte Valerie 
„ert)eben, fonbern er totil bte 9ftaterte ftcfy untertoerfen, unb 
„erretdjt eg ntc^t" 

„!Da§ ©te mt$ auf btefem neuen unb mtr nadj alien sjor- 
^{jergegangenett (Srfatyrungen fremben SBege mtt etnfger 
„23eforgttt§ toerben toanbeln fefyen, toil! tcf) toofyl glauben» 
„$iber fitrd)ten ©ie ntdjt m lotel (£g • tft erftaunltd), tote 
/r i)tel 3^ealtfttfd)eg fcfon bte june^menben 3al>re mtt ft<$ 
^brtngen, tote sotel ber anfyaltenbe Umgang mtt ®oet^en 
„unb bag ©tubtum ber ^titen, bte t$ erftnac^ bem darlog 
„I)abe hnnm lernen, bet mtr nad; unb nac^ enttotdelt ^at* 



XXXVIII 

of pain, which is without art and without form, compara- 
tively. It is too personal, indeed, to be judged strictly as 
poetry ; since in it the individual satisfies a want, eases 
himself of a burden; whereas, in songs of another kind, 
he yields to the creative impulse of a mind over-full. The 
feeling, out of which it sprang, it communicates, and this, 
after its kind, is all to which it pretends." 

*"The Realm of Shadows," he writes fur- 

r xxxvi i 

ther, " is, compared with the Elegy, merely a 
didactic poem. Were the subject of it executed as poeti- 
cally as the subject of the Elegy, it were in a certain sense 
a maximum. And this I will attempt, so soon as I have 
leisure. I will write an Idyl, as I have here written an 
Elegy. All my poetic powers strain themselves to this 
end, to individualize objectively the Ideal of beauty, and 
therefrom shape an Idyl in my own sense. I divide, you 
see, the whole field of poetry into the Naive and the Sen- 
thnental. The Naive has no subdivisions (that is, as it 
respects the mode of feeling) ; the Sentimental has three — 
Satire, Elegy, Idyl. In Sentimental poetry (and out of 
this I cannot go), the Idyl is the highest, but also the 
most difficult problem. It is no less than this — without 
the help of pathos, to produce a high, nay, the highest 
poetic effect. My Realm of Shadows contains only the 
rule for it ; its execution in a special instance would give 
the Idyl, of which I speak. I am seriously inclined to 
take it up, where the Realm of Shadows ends. The mar- 
riage of Hercules with Hebe would be the subject of my 
Idyl. Beyond this material there is nothing more for the 
poet ; for he must not leave human nature, and the pas- 
sage from the Man to the God is the very thing of which 
this Idyl would treat. The principal characters, indeed, 
should be Gods ; but through Hercules I can unite them 
to humanity, and so introduce a motion into the picture. 
Could I succeed in this undertaking, I should hope to 
have triumphed with the sentimental poetry over the 
naive itself." 

6 (56) 



XXXIX 

„T:a§ tcfj auf bem 23ege, ben id) nun einft^Tage, tn ®oe= 
„tf)eg ©ebiet geratfye unb mid) mit ifym toerbe meffen mitf* 
// fen / ift freiiid) toabr; and) ift eg auggemacfjt, bafj id) pterin 
„neben tfym serlteren toerbc* SBctl mtr aber and) ettoag 
„ubrig bfeibt, Suag mein tft, unb er nte erreidjen faun, fo 
„toirb fetn SSorjug mtr unb meinem ^robucte fetnen &tya* 
„ben ttyutt, unb icf) f)offe, bag bte ^edpnung fid) jiemlid) 
„t)e6en foil SO'Jatt toirb ung, tote icf) in meinem mutfy&ott- 
,/ftert Stugcnbltcfen mtr oerfpredje, s>erfd)ieben fpeciftcieren, 
„aber unfere Slrten etnanber nicf)t unterorbnen, fonbern 
„unter etnem fybfyem ibealifcfien ©attunggbegriff einanber 
„co0rbmteren." 

3l<$t SKonate [pater fcprteb ©filler t)ieritber golgenbeg an 
etnen anbern greunb: 

„ytoty immer Itegt bag unglucffeltge 2Ber! formlog unb 
„ettbto$ yor mtr ba. $cineg metner alten <2titcfe fyat fo 
^sn'el gmd unb gorm, a(g ber 2Qat(enftetn je$t fcfyon fcat, 
„aber icf) toeij? j(e0t ju genau, toag ttif> totft, unb h>a3 ity foil, 
• „alg bap icf) mtr bag ©efcfjaft fo Ieicf)t madjen fb'nnte. — 
„Sg tfl mir faft Stfleg abgefcfmitten, tooburct) icf) biefem 
„©toffe nacf) metner getoobnten 2Irt betfommen fonnte; son 
„bem 3nt)alte tyabe icf) fafrntcfjtg $u ertoarten; SltteS mug 
„burcf) etne gIMicfje gorm betoerfftefttgt toerben/' 

„£)u toirft, btefer <2cf)i(berung nacf), fitrdjten, ba§ mtr bte 
„2uft an bem ©efdjafte sergangen fei, obcr, toenn icf> babet 
„toiber metne 9cetgung befyarre, ba§ icf) metne ^tit babet 
„serlieren toerbe, <Set aber unbeforgt, metne Suft ift nicf)t 
„im geringften gefd)toacf)t, unb eben fo toenig meine £>off* 
„nung eineg trepcfjen Srfolgg. ©erabe fo ein ©toff mujjte 
„eg fetn, an bem icf) mein neueg bramatifcfieg Seben eroff^ 
„nen fonnte* £ter, too icf) nur auf ber SBrettc eineg (5cf>eer= 
„mefferg gebe, too jeber <Settenfd;ritt bag ©anje ju ©runbe 
^rtdjtet, furj, too icfy nur burd? bie etnjtge ittnere SBafyrbeit, 
^^ot^toenbtgfett, (Statigfett unb Sejitmmrftettmemett^toecf 
^erretdjen fann, mu§ bte entfc^etbenbe ^rtfe mtt meinem 
^poetifdpen Sliarafter erfolgen. 2lud^ tft fie fdjon ftarf tnt Mri* 
ttiWf fcenn i$ tractive mein ©efdpaft ganj anberg, alg tcp 



XXXIX 

"Such an Idyl would be the very counterpart of High 
Comedy, approaching it on the one side, in form, very 
nearly, while on the other side, and in matte?*, it would 
be its direct opposite. Comedy excludes all pathos; but 
its subject-matter *is the Actual ; the subject- ^ -, 

matter of this Idyl is the Ideal. Comedy is 
in Satire what the product in question would be in the 
Idyl, considered as one species of the Sentimental. Should 
it appear that such a treatment of the Idyl is impractica- 
ble, that .the Ideal will not let itself be individualized, 
then Comedy would be tbe highest work of poetry, as I 
always held it to be, until I began to believe in the pos- 
sibility of such an Idyl. But only think of the enjo} r ment 
of seeing, in a poetic representation, all that is mortal 
dissolved away, — pure light, pure freedom, pure power, — 
no shadows, no limits, nothing more of all that. I grow 
dizzy when I think of this problem, of the possibility of 
its solution. I do not wholly despair of it, if my mind 
could only be free, washed pure of all the distractions of 
the Actual ; then I would summon up my whole power 
and the whole ethereal part of my nature at once, could I 
only get its pure use for this occasion. Ask me no more 
about it. I have only the most wavering images of it, 
and only here and there some outlines. Long study and 
effort must teach me whether anything firm, plastic, can 
be made of it." 

Tragedy was, however, the home to which Schiller soon 
returned, and this notwithstanding the frame of mind he 
was in at the time. He had selected a subject from the 
Turkish siege of Malta, and he expected much from the 
use of the Chorus. The plan of the Knights.of Malta is to 
be found among Schiller's literary remains, its execution 
had only been postponed at the time when he, in May, 
1796, determined on Wallenstein. 

" 1 see myself," he wrote, " upon a very fair way, that 
I need but follow in order to produce something good. 

(57) 



XL 

„el)emaTg pffr gte. Der ©toff unb ©egeuftanb ift fo fetjr auger 
„mtr, ba§ id) tf)m fount eitte 9?etgung abgeioinnen famt; 
„er lafjt mid) betnaije fait unb gletdjgitltig, unb boc$ bin tcfi 
„fitr bie Slrbett begeiftcrt* 3^et gtguren auggenommen, 
„an btc mid) 9fatguttg fejfelt, betmnbte id) alte iibrigen, unb 
„»orjugIt^ ben £aupt-(£t)arafter, blojii nttt ber retnen Stebe 
„be^ .Sihtftlerg, unb id) oerfprecfye bir, ba§ fie baburc|» um 
„9?id)tg fd)Ied)ter augfatfen folletu SIber ju biefem bto§ oBjec- 
„tioen 33erfat)ren tear unb ift mtr bag toeitlauftge unb freub= 
„lofe ©tubtum ber JQueHen fo unentbefyrlu$; benn id) 
„mu§te btc #anbhntg, tote bie (Sfmraftere, aug ifyrer gtit, 
„tf)rem £ocal unb bent ganjen 3 u fatttmenf)ange ber 23e= 
„gcbcnfyefteu fdjopfett, toelcfjeg id) toctt foentger nb'tfyig fm'tte, 
„t»enn id) mid) bwd) etgene ©rfqtjrung nttt 50?enfd;en unb 
„Unternet)mungen aug btefer Piaffe fjatte befannt ntadjen 
„fbnnen. 3d) fu$e abfid)tltd) in ben ©efdudjtgqttetten tint 
„23egren£ung, um ntetne 3been buret) btc Untgebung 
„ber Untftanbe ftreng $u beftimnren unb ju oernurflidjen,. 
„$><wor bin id) ficfjer, bafi mid; bag £tftorifdje nid)t fyerab* 
„3tefyen ober lawmen iotrb. 3d) roill baburd) meine gtgurett 
„wtb metne $anblung blojj bete ben; befeeten mufji fte 
„btejentge $raft, bie id) attenfallg fdjon $aU jeigen fb'nnen, 
„unb otme foelcfje ja itberfyaupt fein ©ebanfe an biefeg ©e- 
^ctyaft oon 2lnfang an moQlid) getoefen ware/' 

(Sett ber 3 e ^/ ^ b* e N gefdjrieben tourbe, Dergtngen nocf 
jtoei 3at)re unb betnatye oter donate, efye ©djttter ben SBaflen* 
ftetn enbigte, ©g entftanben aber inmittelft mefyrere fleinere 
©ebicfite, unb unter biefen bie Lenten* Die ®efd)id)te biefeg 
$robuftg fann oiefleidjt (Stioag beitragen, manege baritber ge* 
fattte Urtfyeite ju berid)tigen» 

Sin ©oetfyeg ©eite begann fur ©cittern eine neue unb 
fd)b'nere Sugenb. £of)e SSegetfterung fur atleg £refflid?e, leben- 
biger £>afj gegen fallen ©efdmtacf uberfyaupt unb gegen jebe 
23efd;ranfung ber SBiffenfdjaft unb $unft, beraufdjenber Ueber* 
mutt) im ©efufyl einer sorter hum geafntten ®raft toar'bamatg 
bet tfynt bte fjerrfc^enbe ©ttmmuttg* Dafyer fetne 33eretntgung 



XL 

This is already much, undoubtedly much more than I could 
r „ .. ever *boast of before in this field. Formerly 

I XXXVIII I 

I concentrated all my powers in individual- 
izing a performance ; now, however, all my calculations 
are made in reference to it as a whole ; and I shall exert 
myself to the utmost to hide this same richness in individ- 
ualization, and with the same luxuriousness of art, as I 
formerly employed in revealing it, which was done that 
I might give to individualization the greatest prominence. 
Even if I desired to act differently, I am prevented from 
doing so by the very nature of the thing itself, for Wal- 
lenstein is a character purely practical, and therefore, can 
only prove interesting when we consider his whole life, 
but never in any single act thereof. There is nothing 
noble in Wallenstein, he does not appear great in any 
single act of his life, he possesses little dignity, &c. But 
I hope, nevertheless, by following the path of pure real- 
ism, to be able to produce a great dramatic character, and 
one possessing a true principle in life. Formerly, as in 
Posa and Carlos, I endeavored to redeem what was want- 
ing in Truth, by making use of what was most beautiful 
in the Ideal ; here in Wallenstein, I shall strenuously en- 
deavor to indemnify for the want of Ideality (I refer to 
the sentimental), by means of Truth only. 

"The task 1 have imposed upon myself will be neces- 
sarily difficult, but at the same time, so much the more 
interesting; since success is necessary to true realism, 
whereas the idealistic character can dispense with it. But, 
unfortunately, success was not with Wallenstein. His un- 
dertaking is morally bad, and it fails physically. He is 
never great in any single act, and if we consider his life 
as a whole, we find that he fails to attain his object. He 
cannot, like the Idealist, bury himself within himself, and 
soar above matter, but he would conquer it, would have 
matter subject to him, and cannot accomplish it. 

" That you will see me wander upon this new, and from 
all past experience strange, path, with some apprehension, 

(58) 



XLI 

mtt ®oetf»e ju etnem Unternefymen, bag ©fitter felBjr auf 
folgenbe 2lrt BcfcfyretBt: 

„£)te ©tnfyett farm Bet etnem foldjen ^Jrobuct BIo§ tn etner 
„get»tj[en ®ren$en!oftgfett imb afle sjfteffung itBerfcfyrettenben 
,$ittte gefudjt toerben, unb bamtt bte £>eterogenttat ber Bet* 
„ben UrfyeBer in bem ©mjelnen mc§t jit erfennen fet, mu§ bag 
„(Sm$elne em Minimum fctn. $nrj, bte (5adje Befte^t tn 
„etnem getttffen ®anjen son Sptgrammen, beren jebeg em 
„9ttonobtfit<$ott i% £>ag Sfletfie tft totlbe (Satire, Befcnberg 
„auf Sttjrtftftefter unb fcfjriftjfcumfdje ^robucte, untermtfdjt 
„mtt emjemen poettfcljen unb pfnlofopfnfcfien ®ebanfen» 
„33Ii$ett. Sg toerben mc$t unter 600 fold?e 9flonobifri<$ett 
„r0erben, aBer ber $fan tft, auf 1000 ju ftetgen* @mb toir 
„mtt etner Bebeutenben 2ln$af)l ferttg, fo rotrb ber SSorratf), 
„mtt Sfatcf jtctyt auf etne geit>tffe Stnfyett, forttrt, itberarBettet, 
„um etnerlet Son ju erfyalten, unb jeber fturb bann son fet* 
„ner banter ettoag aufjucpfern fuc^en, um [ity bem anbern 
„mefyr anjunafyern." 

Dtefer $lan fourbe rttc^t auggefitfyrt. 3m 3ultug 1796 fc^rteB 
©fitter baritBer golgenfceg; 

„*ftacf)bem t$ bte Sfcbacrfon ber Lenten gemac^t r)atte, 

„fanb ftt$, bajj nodj etne erftaunltcfje 9ttenge neuer 9ftono= 

„btfttcf)en noting fet, toenn bte (Sammiung and) nr.r etntger* 

„ma£jen ben Stnbrucf etneg ®an$en macfjen foftte, SBetl 

„aBer etltt$e fyunbert neue Gmfatte, Befonberg itBer totffen- 

„fc§aftlt$e ©egenftanbe, Stnem ntdjt fo letcfyt ju ©eBote 

„ftef)en, aud) bte SMenbung beg ^etfterg" ©oetfyen etne 

„ftarfe j£)tserjton mac^t, fo jtnb ftur itBeretngefommen, bte 

„£emen ntd)t ati tin Qdan$t$, fonbern jerftitcielt bem Sllma* 

„natf) emju&erletbetu fete ernftljaften, p{;tlofopf)tfcf)en unb 

„poettfc6ett ioerben baraug tteremjelt unb Balb in grb'fi em, 

„Balb tn flement ®an%tn fcorn im 2I(manad) angeBracft. 

,/Dte fattrifc^en folgen unter bem 9?amen Xenten nacf)," 

(£g mag fetn, ba§ Bet btefem 23erfaf>ren mandjeg Sptgramm 

aufgenommen tuurbe, bag Bet etner ftrcngen 2Iu3t»af)t nac^ bem 

erften Pane toeggcBlteBen ware* (Skitter n>ar aflerbtngS ba* 

malg geretjt, ntc|t burcfi Semerfungen iiBer bte Mangel fetner 



XL I 

I can well understand. But do not fear too much. It is 
truly astonishing how much of the practical the increas- 
ing years bring with them ; how much my uninterrupted 
intercourse with Goethe, and the study of the ancients, 
with which I only became familiar after I had written 
Carlos, gradually developed in me. 

*"It is true, that, by following the path I 
have now concluded to take, I enter upon an- L 
other's domain, and he none less than Goethe, with 
whom I will be obliged to compete ; I am also fully aware 
that, compared with Goethe, I will be the loser. But, 
since something will also remain that is mine, and to 
which he can never attain, his superiority will neither be 
injurious to me, nor to my production ; and I hope the 
account between us will very nearly balance. The public, 
as I fully anticipate when feeling most sanguine, will 
class us differently ; they will not, however, make the style 
of one subordinate to that of the other, but, considering it 
in the light of a special idea of the higher idealistic order, 
will make our styles co-ordinate." 

Eight months later, Schiller wrote to another friend: 

"I am still brooding seriously over Wallenstein ; but 
the unfortunate work is still before me, shapeless and end- 
less. None of my former compositions have so much force 
and substance as Wallenstein already has ; but 1 feel too 
well what I ought to do, and what I will do, to take the 
work more easily. Nearly everything whereby I might 
approach and treat of this subject in my usual way, is cut 
oil* from me; from the substance I have scarcely any- 
thing to expect, everything must be effected by means of 
a happy form. 

"This description will make you fear that I have lost 
all relish for the work, or that if I continue it contrary 
to my inclination, it will be so much lost time. You need 
not fear ; my inclination for it has not abated in the slight- 
est degree, neither has my hope of great success. It was 
the very subject I stood in need of to try my new dramatic 

(59) 



XLII 

$robucte — bemt fjteruber roar niemanb fcBarffiditiget cd$ er 
fclbft, tt>ie fid? au3 obtgert ©tctten feiner SSriefe ergibt, unb jeben 
feiner greunbe forberte er ju freimiitf)igen Urtfyeilen auf — fort- 
bent, roeil tfjn bie $alte unb ®eringfd)a£ung erbitterte, roomit 
em Unternefmten, roofiir er fid; begeiftert fjatte, son mefjreren 
(getten aufgcnommen rourbe* Dteg roar ber Salt bet ben "£o* 
ren. 3m SBcrtrauen auf ben Seifranb ber erftcrt ©cfyrtftjleKer 
ber Nation fmtte er auf erne grope SBirfung geredmct unb traf 
bagegen fefyr oft auf 9J?angeI an Smpfangltdjfeit unb fleinlidje 
Slnjtcfyten. 2» Fonnte ifym bann roo!)l in etner 9lufroa(lung ber 
Snbignatton and) etroag ^enfdjlidjeg begegnen; aber ber etgent= 
lifyt ®etfi, in bent bte £cnten gefdjrieben ftnb, fpridt)t fid; fur ben 
unbefangeneu £efer im ©anjen beutlidt; genug au3. 

Sin 9Bettetfer mit ©oetfye seranlafite tm 3af)r 1797 ©cbt(- 
lerg erfte 23aftaben. 23eibe £>id)ter tfyeilten fid) in bie <2>toffe, 
bie fie gemeinfd)aftli$ au3gefud)t fatten* 2?on biefer ©attung, 
bie @d)t(Iern lieb geroorbcn roar, lieferte er in fpatern 3a(jren 
nod) 9Jc"and)eg, nadjbem anbere fleinere ©ebidjte feitener son 
tfym er[d;ienen, 

(Sett bent 3af)re 1799 roibmete er ft$ ganj ben bramatifdjen 
5Irbeiten, unb gab bie £erau3gabe be£ ?!Jhtfena{manad)s auf* 
5Dte £oren fatten fd)on fritter geenbigt ©oetfyeg ^rop^laen 
inbeffen, fitr bie fid) ©cfutfer fefyr lebtjaft interefftrte, fottten 
33eitrd'gc son ifmt erijaltem 

3n eben tfefe 3^it trifft and) eine SSeranberung feineg 2BoI)n= 
ort3. Urn bie 2ln[d)auung beg £t)eater3 gu l)aben, rooftte (5d)i(= 
ler anfanglid) nur ben 2Binter in SBeimar jubringen unb roafn 
renb beg ©ommerg auf einem ©arten bet 3ena leben, ben er 
fid) bort gefauft fyatte* 2-lber fyd'tert)in routbe SBeimar fein be= 
ftanbtger 2lufentlja(t. S3on bem regierenben -^erjoge rourbe er 
bet biefer ©e(egenf)eit auf eine fefyr eble 2frt unterftittjt, fo roie 
tr)n itberfyaupt biefer gitrft hd jebem 51nlaffe burd; bie beut- 
lidjften 23eroeife feineg SBofylrooHeng erfreute, 3bm »erbanfte 
©emitter im 3ai)r 1795, al3 er einen 3?uf al$ $rofeffor nad; 
Siibingen erbielt, bie 3 u f^ erun 9 e * ner Skrbobpelung feineg 
©ebalteg, auf ben gatt, ba§ er burd) 5lranF^eit an fc^rtftfteCte- 
rifcfyen SXrbeitert i>er()inbert rourbe, uad^er im 3af)re 1799 eine 



/ 



XLII 

career. Bounded as I am within such narrow limits, 
where each step beyond them destroys the whole, in a 
word, where my object can only be obtained by innate 
truth, necessity, perseverance, and precision, a decisive 
crisis in my poetical character must be the result, and it is 
coming on. I find a very different spirit in my work from 
that which formerly moved me. *My subject is so 
■- -• much outside of myself that I remain quite cool and 
unconcerned, and yet I feel enthusiasm for the work. "With 
the exception of two personages that have won my affec- 
tion,! treat all, and especially the principal character, with 
the pure love only of the artist, and I promise you it will be 
none the worse for its being so. But I found that a serious, 
though cheerless study of authorities, was indispensable to 
this objective method; it was necessary to seek events, 
characters, and personages in their own era, a labor which 
might have been dispensed with, if by personal experience 
I had made myself acquainted with men and things of 
those classes. I endeavor to fix a limit to the historical 
sources, to determine my ideas by the chain of events, and 
to realize them. Of this I am certain, that the historical 
element will neither draw me down, nor circumscribe me 
in my work. I design by these means to give life only to 
my personages : they must receive souls (animation) from 
that power of which I may at times have given proof, and 
without which it would have been folly to have given one 
moment's thought to this work." 

Two years and nearly four months elapsed, dating from 
the time this was written, before Schiller finished Wallen- 
stein. But, during the interval, quite a number of minor 
poems made their appearance, and among them were those 
epigrams, under the name of Xenien or Xenia. An account 
of this production may assist somewhat in correcting some 
of the many judgments passed upon it. 

By the side of Goethe, there bloomed a new and happier 
youth for Schiller. Unbounded enthusiasm for all that 
was excellent; hatred for bad taste, affectation, and dul- 

(60) 



XLIII 

fernere 3 u ^ a 9 e / un *> 3ule£t tm Safyre 1804, toegen bebentenber 
^Inerbietungen, bie (ScfytUent son Scrlin ang gema4)t ionrben, 
eine 2?ermefyrung feiner 23efolbnng. 2Ind? tr>ar eg ber $er$og 
tiott ©a#fen*3Bettnar, ber au^ eigener 25ett>egnng tm Sabr 
1802 <£c§Mera ben SIbelgbrief angtoirfte. 

Stumer ©oetfyeg 9la&e fyatte ber Slufentfyalt inSBeimar fitr 
(Btyitlem nod> anbere erf)eblic|)e SSorrfyetle. 3 U fewer 9luf* 
fyeiternng btente befonberg em bamalg erricbjeter frofylicfyer 
SilvLbb, fiir ben er, fo tote ©oet&e, einige gefettfcfiaftltdje 2te- 
ber bidjtete. £)ie titer SBeltalter nnb bag £teb an bte 
8r eunbe entftanben auf btefe 2lrr. £>ag Sweater gab ©d)ii* 
lem titelen ©enu§, nnb gem befcfjd'fagte er [vfy an$ mit ber 
t)6t)ern Slug&tlbung ber bortigen @$aufpteler* 

(Seine Slnjtcfcten ber Jmnft nnb fbcitit in btefer leijten $eriobe 
fcineg £ebeng ergeben fic$ ang folgenben gragmenten fetner ba= 
maligen 23riefe: 

„(5ie mtiffen fief) ni$t tonnbem, toenn ic$ mtr bie 2Bif= 
„fenfc|aft nnb bte $unft jeijt in einer gropern Sntfemnng 
„nnb Sntgegenfeimng benfe, alg ic| oor einigen 3afyren 
„mMd)t geneigt geroefen bin* SEfteine ganje S^attgfeit 
„fyat ftdj gerabe jejjt ber 2lngitbnng mgetoenbet: icf> erfafyre 
„tdgli$, rote toenig ber $oet burc^ allgenteine reine 
„33egriffe Bet ber Slngitbnng gefbrbert toirb, nnb todre in 
„btefer (Stimmnng mtoeilen nnpfyilofoptufd} genng, aUtv, 
„toag i{$ felbft nnb anbre son ber (£lementar=2leftf)ettf toif- 
„fen, fiir einen einigen empirtf^en SSortfyetl, fitr einen 
„$unjigrtff beg .£)anbtoerfg f)inmgeben. 3n jRutfftcfyt anf 
„bag £er»orbringen roerbert ©ie mtr jtoar felbft bie Unjulang* 
„lid)hit ber Sfyeorie einrdumen, aber icf) betyne meinen Itn* 
„glanben and) anf bag Senrtfyeilen ang nnb mb'cbje be* 
„fyanpten, ba§ eg fein ©efd£ gibt, bie SBerfe ber (£inbil= 
„bnnggfraft m fajfen, alg eben biefe (Sinbilbnnggfraft 

„2Benn man bie $nnfr, fo toie bie %fyiltfopfyt, alg tttoa$, 
„bag immer toirb nnb nie ift, alg immer bttnamifdj nnb 
„tttdj}t, tote fie eg jefct nenncn, atomiftifd) betracfytet, fo fann 
„man gegen jebeg ^robnct gerecbj fein, cfyne babnrcf) einge* 



XLIII 



ness generally, and for every restriction on Art and Sci- 
ence ; bewildering haughtiness, in the consciousness of 
powers never dreamed of before, were now the ruling pas- 
sion with him. 

*This accounts for his connection with Goethe 
in an enterprise, which Schiller thus describes : L J 

"Unity, in such a production, can be sought only in a 
certain unbounded and interminable fulness ; and that the 
heterogeneous characters of the originators be not dis- 
cernible in the individual parts, they must be a minimum. 
In a word, the whole affair consists of a conglomeration 
of epigrams, of which each is a single couplet. They con- 
sist chiefly of wild and impious satires, especially against 
authors and their works, intersected here and there by 
sudden flashes of poetical and philosophical ideas. There 
will be no less than six hundred of such monodistichs, but 
we propose making a thousand. When we have a rea- 
sonable number ready, the stock will be spread out before 
us, with a view to a certain individuality, to preserve 
unity of tone ; and each of us will endeavor to sacrifice a 
portion of his style, to approach, as near as possible, to 
that of the other." 

This project was never put into execution. In July, 
1796, Schiller wrote about it as follows : 

"Shortly after I had undertaken the editing of the 
Xenien, it became apparent that an immense number of 
monodistichs would yet be necessary, if the collection 
should present anything like the appearance of a whole. 
But since several hundred new ideas, especially on scien- 
tific subjects, are not so apt to stand at a person's imme- 
diate command, and Goethe being busy finishing his Wil- 
helm Meister, we have concluded to embody the Xenien in 
the Almanack as unconnected particles, not pretending to 
constitute a whole. The earnest, philosophical, and poet- 
ical epigrams are to be separated from the others, and, 
sometimes constituting a larger, sometimes a smaller 
whole, are to be given a place in the front part of the Al~ 

(61) 



XLIV 

„fd)rdnrt ju roerbcn. ©g ifr aber tm dljarafter ber $>eut- 
„fd)en, ba§ t^nen alleg gleicb fcft totrb, unb ba$ fie bie un= 
„enblid>e ftunft, fo ttjte fie eg bet ber Reformation mit ber 
„£J)eologie gemadjt, gleidj in ein ©tombolum Inneinbannen 
„muffen. Defiroegen gereidjen u)nen felbft trefflid)e SfBerfe 
„2um Serberben, roeit fie gletd^ fitr l)ei!ig unb eroig erfldrt 
„rocrben, unb ber ftrebenbe $unjrlcr immer barauf juritcf* 
„geroiefen roirb. Sin btefe 28erfe ntc^t religib'g glauben, 
„fyct§t Ste&eret, ba bocfy bie $unft fiber alien SBerfen fjt ©g 
„gibtfreilid) in ber $unft ein Maximum, aber nic|t in ber 
„mobernen, bie nur in einem eroigen gortfdjritte % £>eil 
„fmben fann. — 

„34> fyabt biefer £age ben rafenben Rolanb roieber 
„gelefen, nnb fann bir nicbt genug fagen, roie anjiefyenb 
„unb erquicfenb mir btefe Secure roar. £)ier ift £eben nnb 
„33eroegung unb garbe unb guile; man roirb aug ficty 
„f)eraug ing tootle &Un unb bodj roieber toon ba juritcf in 
„fi$ felbft t)ineingefiit)rt; man fdjroimmt in einem reidjen 
„unenblid)en ©(entente, unb roirb feineg eroigen ibentifdjen 
„3cl)g log, unb eriftirt tUn befiroegen metjr, roeil man au$ 
„\ify felbft geriffen roirb. Unb bed) ift, tro£ after Uetotoig- 
„hii, Raftlofigfeit unb ttngebulb, gorm unb *pian ^ btm 
„©ebid)t, roelcfyeg man mefyr em of in bet alg erfennt, unb 
„an ber (Stattgfett unb fid) felbft erfyaltenben 23el)aglid)* 
„feit unb grb'biidjfeit beg 3 u f^ anDe ^ roafyrnimmt. greilid) 
„barf man t)ier hint £iefe fudjen unb femert (Srnjr; aber 
„roir braudjen roafjrlid) aud) bie gladje fo noting alg bie 
„Xiefe, unb fur ben (Srnft forgt bie SSernunft unb bag 
„©<$ttffal genug, bap bie ^antafie ftc§> nicpt bamit ju be- 
„meugen brauc^t. — 

„9?ocl) tyoffe i$ tn meinem tooetifcben (Streben feinen 
, / 3 f litcffd;ritt getban ju Ijaben, einen ©eitenfdjritt toielleicfyt, 
„inbem eg mir begegnet fein faun, ben materiellen gor- 
„bernngen ber SDelt unb ber 3eit etroag eingerd'umt ju 
„l)aben. £)ie SBerfe beg bramatifcpen <Did)terg roerben 
„fd)neller alg alle anbere toon bem 3^itffern ergriffen; er 
„fommt felbft, roiber SBiften, mit ber gropen $?affe in tint 



XLIV 

manach. Those of a satirical vein are to follow, under 
the head of Xenien. " 

By this manner of proceeding, it may have happened 
that many an epigram was included, which would have 
been omitted had the original plan been adhered to. Schil- 
ler was undoubtedly very much irritated at this time, not on 
r# .. account of any remarks derogatory to his ^'com- 
positions, for in this respect no one could have 
been more penetrating than he was himself, as shown 
by the above extracts from his letters, and also from the 
fact that he always called upon his friends to give their 
opinions freely and frankly, but on account of the coldness 
and indifference which a production, for which he had felt 
so much enthusiasm, met with in many quarters. This 
was the case with the Horen. Having received the most 
flattering promises, he had every reason to be confident 
of the support of the first writers of the nation, and, there- 
fore anticipated the grandest results ; whereas he often 
met with indifference, and mean and shallow views. It 
may be that in such moments of natural indignation, being 
only a mortal, he allowed himself to be carried away ; 
but the true spirit in which the Xenien were written is 
clearly enough expressed, as a whole, to the impartial 
reader. 

In 1797, Schiller produced his first ballads, the idea of 
which took its rise in a friendly rivalry with Goethe. 
The two poets divided the subjects which they had selected 
in common. Of this species of poetry, to which Schiller 
had become attached, he gave, in later years, quite a 
number to the public, even after other minor poems ap- 
peared at rare intervals from his pen. 

From 1799, he devoted himself entirely to dramatic 
writings, and renounced the publication of the Musen- 
Almanach. The Horen ceased, however, some months be- 
fore. Goethe's Propylceen, for which Schiller interested 
himself greatly, were to receive contributions from him. 

It was about this time that he changed his residence. 

(62) 



XLV 

„i3telfeth'ge 33criil)rimg, bet ber man ntcfjt tmnter rem bletbh 
„2lufangg gefaCtt eg, ben £errfc|)er m mad)en itber bte ®e- 
„mutl)er; aber ttelcbem £errfdjer begegnet eg ntcbt, baf er 
„autf) tuteber ber.£)tener fetner £)tener toirb, um feme £err= 
„fd)aft m betjaupten? Unb fo fann eg me(Ietcf)t gefcfyetjett 
„fein, baf td), tnbem tdj bte beutfc^en 23ittmen mtt bent ©e* 
„raufdb, ntetner ©titcfe erfttflte, aucf) oon ben beutfcf)en 23ii^ 
„nen ettoag angenommen ^abe/' 

*ftad)bem ©critter etnmal burdj ben SBaHenftem bte 9fletfler« 
fd^aft errungen fjatte, folgten (erne itbrtgen bramattf4)cn SBerfe 
fdmetf anf emanber, bbglem) feme £f)atigfett oft burd) fbrper* 
(td)e £eiben unb befonberg tm 3af)re 1799 burcf) ©orgeftir etne 
geltebte ©atttn, bet tfyrer bamaltgen gefafyrltcben ^ranffyeit, 
unterbroctyen tturbe, SB a II en ft etn erfduen 1799, ataxia 
©tuart 1800, bte Sungfrau son ©rleang 1801, bte 
23raut son 9flefftna 1803 unb SBtllielm Sell 1804 
3n eben btefem 3afyre fcterte er bte Smhmft ber rufftfc^en 
©rofprfttn, bte fid) mtt bent Srbprtnjen son ©a$fen=2Betmar 
cermafjlte, bur$ bte #ulbtgung ber $ihtfte» £llle btefe 
SBerfe Itefen tfym noc|) gelt itbrtg, ©fyaffpeare'g 9ttacbetfy 
unb©o^rg Xuranbot fiir bag beutfcfye Sweater m bear* 
beiten* ©pater tourben nocf) Racine 1 g $f)abra unb jtoet 
franjb'fif4)e Suftfpiele »on tfom itberfe|t 3n ben 3ttifdKnjetten 
befcfyaftigten tyn mefyrere bramattfcfje Pane, toooon fid? em 
£b, ett unter fetnen $aoieren aufgefunben fyat 

Slucfy fitr eine ^ombbie fyatte er etnen ©toff gefunben, finite 
fief aber m fremb fitr btefe (Dattung. 

„3ttar glaube tc$ mm)," fcfyrieb er etnem greunbe, ber* 
„jentgen 5lombbie, too eg mefyr auf etne fomtfdje 3 u f nm * 
„menfitgung ber S3cgebent)etten, alg auf fomtfdje Sfyaraftere 
„unb auf £umor aufommt, getoa^fen; aber metne 9?atur 
„ift bod) m ernft gefttmmt, unb toa$ feme £tefe fyat, fann 
„mid) ntd)t lange an^ie^em" 

ytafy ber Ueberfe^uug ber $t)abra ^atte er em neueg branta- 
ttfc^eg ©ebtcfytbegomten, fooson bte ®efdjtd)te beg fatfdjen 
T)emetrtug in 0tu^tanb ber ©toff tear. S3ei btefem SBerfe, 
mitten tm 23ottgefiii)t feiner geiftigen ^raft, ergriff ilm ber 2:ob* 



XLV 

In order that he might be able to visit the theatre, Schil- 
ler at first intended to remain in Weimar only during 
the winter, and to spend the summer on his country place, 
near Jena, which he had lately purchased. But some 
time later, Weimar became his permanent place of resi- 
dence. About this time he was liberally and generously 
supported by the reigning Duke, who was ever ready to 
give him substantial proofs of his appreciation and re- 
spect, and in a manner which could not fail to touch 
Schiller's heart. This Duke also, in 1795, about the time 
Schiller was offered a professorship at Tubingen, assured 
him that his allowance should be doubled if illness should 
prevent him from prosecuting his literary labors ; after- 
wards, in 1799, *his pension was increased, and ^ -. 
again in 1804. It was also the Duke of Sachsen- 
Weimar who, unsolicited and from the purest motives, 
obtained the Patent of Nobility for Schiller. 

Schiller's sojourn at Weimar possessed, besides Goethe's 
proximity, other important advantages for him. A club, 
instituted about this time, for which he and Goethe were 
in the habit of composing social songs, was a source of 
great pleasure to him. The Four Ages of the World, and 
To my Friends, originated in this manner. Schiller was 
very fond of the theatre, and it gave him much pleasure 
to assist in perfecting the actors of Weimar in their pro- 
fession. 

His views on art and criticism, during this last period 
of his life, are to be found in the following fragments of 
his letters written at the time : 

" You must"not be surprised if 1 consider Art and Sci- 
ence at a greater distance, and more in opposition, than I 
was perhaps willing to acknowledge some years ago. My 
mind is now actively directed to practice: I experience, 
daily, how little the poet is assisted in practice by means 
of clear ideas generally, and, when in this frame of mind, 
I would be unphilosophical enough, at times, to give 
everything that I and others know of Elementary iEs- 

(63) 



XLVI 

(Sin ^efttger fRMfafi feiner getob'&nlufyen 23rujtfranH)eit enbigte 
fetrt Seben am 9. max 1805, 

(£t ointerlie§ eine SBitttoe, jtoet (Scfme unb jtoet £b'djter» 
33on feinen bret ®d;tneftern toar bie jitngfte »or ifym geftorben ; 
bie dltefie aber lebte in SMnragen aU ©attin beg bafigen £of- 
ratfyS 9? e t n to a I b, unb bte jtoeite toar an ben Stabtpfarrer 
granffy ju SDtb'cfmityl, tm JUntigreicfye SSurttemberg, »er&et- 
ratbet 

©djttterS ©eficbt^iige ftnb am treueflert unb geiftoettjlen m 
enter foloffalen 23itjie »on ©annecfer in Stuttgart barge= 
ftettt toorberu Sine fritber serferttgte Siifte in SebenSgrb'jje, 
toojn ©djitter toafyrenb femes le$ten Sutfentbaltg in (sd&toabcn 
gefeffen fmtte, lag babei mm ©runbe, unb btefeS SQerHtt einem 
grii§ern (Style mit alter Smfrrengung feiner 5fr\rfte auymfiifyrert, 
befd)(c§ ber eble ^imftler in bem Slugenblttfe ber fyb'djften 9ftijj- 
rung, ba er bie 9?ad)rid)t son bem Xobe feineS greunbeS erfjielt. 

©oettjeg SSorte itber Sdn^ern mb'gcn bfefert Sluffafc be* 
fc^liepen : 

&g glitfite feme 2Bange xott) unb rotber 
33on jener 3ugenb, bie ung nie entfltegt, 
2}cn fenem SJJhttt), ber fritber ober fpa'ter 
2>n SBiberftanb ber frumpfen 2Belt befiegt, 
SSbn jenem ©lauben, ber jidj, ftetg ert)ot)ter, 
23alb fitfm fyer&orbrangt, ba(b gebulbig fti&mtegt, 
©amtt bag ©ute rotrfe, toac^fe, fromme, 
©amitber Sag bem Sblen enblid) fomme : 

Unb manege ©eifter, bie mit ifym gerungen, 
®etn gro£ 3?erbienjr untoilltg anerfannt, 
©te fiifyten fid) son feiner ftraft burdibrungett, 
3u feiuem Jlreife toifftg fefrgebannt. 
3um £ed)ften fyat er fid) emporgefc^toungen, 
tylit attem, toag toir fdjdfien, eng oertoanbt. 
(So fcicrt t(m ! Dentt, toa'y bem SWann bag Sebett 
9?ur tyalb erttjeilt, foil ganj bte Wafymlt gcben* 



XLVI 

thetics, for a single empirical advantage, for a single 
knack of the trade. In regard to the art of creating, you 
will no doubt coincide with me as to the insufficiency of 
theory, but I also extend my disbelief to the critique, and 
would assert that there is no vessel better adapted to con- 
tain the works of the imaginative faculty than just the 
imaginative faculty itself. 

" If we consider Art as well as Philosophy, as something 
that always is to be, yet never is, as something dynamical, 
and not, as you now denominate it, atomistic, we can be 
just towards every production, without, therefore, being 
r# , in the slightest degree *hemmed in. But it is 

characteristic of the Germans, that everything 
immediately takes root, that is, becomes stable, and they 
symbolically fetter infinite Art as they did Tbeology dur- 
ing the Eeformation. Consequently, some really admir- 
able works are condemned, simply because they are im- 
mediately declared to be inviolable and everlasting, and 
the attention of the ambitious artist, who would ascend 
higher, is forever directed back to them. Not to believe 
religiously in such works is heresy, — whereas Art soars 
above all works. It is true, there is a maximum in Art, 
but not in our modern Art; it alone can find its salvation 
in everlasting progress. 

" It was but lately that I read Orlando Fukioso again, 
and I cannot say enough to express to you, how attrac- 
tive and refreshing its perusal was to me. Here we find 
life, motion, color, and vigor ; we are drawn out of our- 
selves, and led into full life, and thence drawn back again 
into ourselves; we float in a rich, unfathomable element, 
and lose sight of our everlas f ing identical ego, and exist, 
therefore, the more, because we are torn from out our- 
selves. And still there is, notwithstanding all sensuous- 
ness, restlessness, and impatience, form and plan in the 
poem, which we not so much discern as feel, and which, 
owing to the restiveness and self-subsisting agreeableness, 
and gayety of the situation, we cannot so readily recog- 
7 (64) 



XLVII 



(Hjarfotte toon SdjtKer* 

Charlotte son ©fitter, geborne tton Sengefelb, erblttfte tm 
December 1766 tit ©$i»ar$burg=sRuboIjtabt bag £i<$t ber SBelt 
3m gebruar 1790 tourbe fie ©cotters (Stotttn. pnfje^n 3af)re 
fymbur$ toar jte feme glMtdje Sebenggefatjrtm. 

9?ur tmmer nrieberfefyrenbe <Sorge urn feme ©efunbfyett 
fonnte bteg fc$one £)afem tritben, 3m grii&Ifag beg fec^efmten 
3at)reg tfyrer &t)e entrtf t^n ber £ob tfyren Strmen, ber 2BeIt 

Charlotte lebte ganj in ©fitter tmb emjtg fitr tfm. (5m 
SBefen ijott retner, fmntger Smpfangltd&fett fitr bte Stufnafjme 
fetner 3beett tmmer ttm ft$ gu fhtben, tear tfym 23ebitrfm§ , 
unb tn fetnen Sfttttyetlungen fanb Quartette tyx fyoefn'teg ®lit& 
„<5te folgte gem, bentt ttjr toaxb Iet$t m folgen/' ©in ftcfjerer 
®efc|macf toax tfyr tn ber £>armonte tfyrer ©eelenfdtngfetten 
angeborem 3fyr ®efitfyl toarb nt$t felten em befttmmenbeg 
ttrtfyetl fitr tlm* £>er SBtbertotfle gegen alleg (Sememe lag in 
tf)r ftue m tfynu 

©te toax bag 28etb, befjen er beburfte. (£r fonnte auf ben 
flaren ©runb btefer @eele frfjauen, tn ber ntd)tg SSerborgeneg 
lag, \a, ber eg unmbglidj toax, tin 2Bort anberg, benn alg treueg 
23tlb tfyrer ®efit|Ie unb ©ebanfen augjufbre^en, £>er er- 
frtfe^enbe £au$ blit^enber ^antafte roef)te bur$ t^r £eben, 
unb tfyre 23egletterm, bte £offnung, er^tett tn Sfyartotten bte 
©cittern fo n>ot)ltf>attge £etterfett. ©elbftftd'nbigfett unb (£I)a= 
rafter fcermogen ftd) gegen bte oft fjarte 9fott)loenbtgfett m ftem- 
men, aber ber 3auber beg Umgangg entqutUt nur jenen £tm* 
melgfrdften. 

Sfyarlotteng SSrtefe fyaben erne etgene ©rajte* 5Jtteg (Srnfie 
unb ®rofje erfaffenb, bo$ bte ^letntgfetten beg tagltc$en £ebeng 
fetn fitblenb unb tm fyettem, oft fomtfd&en (stnne fwltenb, ftel- 
len fte ben gegenttdrttgeu foment flax unb anmutfytg bar* 

Vlatf) <54)ttterg £obe lebte fte ber @rjtef)ung unb Settung beg 
£ebenggangeg tfyrer oitx gut gearteten unb talentootlen itmber- 



XL VII 



nize. Depth and earnestness, it is true, are not to be 
looked for here; but we certainly need shallowness as 
well as depth, and for earnestness we have reason and 
destiny, which take sufficient care that phantasy need not 
meddle in the matter. 

" So far I do not think that I have made a single step 
backwards in my poetical endeavors ; I may have taken 
a step to one side, inasmuch as it may have occurred to 
me, that I conceded something to the material demands 
of the world and the times. The works of the dramatic 
poet are seized upon by the times quicker than those of 
any other class of authors ; he comes personally into the 
^closest connection with the great mass of the rx ., 
people, whereby he does not always remain free 
from contamination. At first it pleases us to play the 
part of ruler over the minds of others ; but what ruler 
has not experienced that he is apt to become the servant 
of his servants, in order to assert his authority ? And thus 
it may have happened that having filled the German 
stages with the noise of my productions, something from 
the German stages may also have clung to me." 

After Schiller had achieved the mastership through 
Wallenstein, his other dramatic works appeared in rapid 
succession, notwithstanding that he was often interrupted 
by bodily infirmities, and especially, in 1799, by the 
fear and solicitude entertained for the recovery of his 
wife, who was dangerously ill at the time. Wallenstein 
appeared in 1799 ; Maria Stuart in 1800 ; The Maid of Or- 
leans in 1801 ; The Bride of Messina in 1803, and William 
Tell in 1804. It was also in this year that he celebrated 
the arrival of the Russian Grand Princess, who was es- 
poused to the Hereditary Prince of Sachsen- Weimar, with 
his Homage- of the Arts. Notwithstanding these many 
works, he still found time to prepare Shakespeare's Mac- 
beth and Gozzi's Turandot for the German stage. At a 
later period, he translated Racine's Phedre, and two com- 
edies, from the French. In the meantime, quite a num- 

(65) 



XL Yin 

(Stc erleBte no$ bte ftreube, t&re Betbett (Sofme gliicFUdp »cr- 
tyixafytt gu fef)ert. 3t>re le£ten £ebengjafyre toaren bur$ 
(2$tca$e ber Slugen, He mtt sfc'Utger Siinbfyeir tetrode, ge= 
triibt. (Ste errrug and) biefeg Ungliicf nut 3ftutf) unb Sr= 
gebung, gencf nod? fjeitere Sage mit ifyren £inbern tin Jfreife 
rciirbiger greunbe aug Sdjnmben. 9?ad) einer gelungenen 
Sutgencperation, bte tfyr bag SBiebergetoinnen beg ©eftcfytg »er=» 
fpradb, beftel fie em ^Jersenfcfclag. ©ie ftarb in ben Slrmen 
jtteier u)rer timber, tn 23onn, tm 3ultug 1826, 3f)re Iet?ten 
Smnben roaren fanft. 23et entfd)»unbener flarer SSefonnen- 
f>ett fiiblte \it bte Srennung son ben 3brtgen ntdjt unb &erid)ieb 
tn freunblicfcen sjtyantajiert. 2Ber ftd) »on ben gei[r= unb ge= 
rniitteeCen 3 u S en ^ reg dftitflitf angejcgen fiijjlt unb ifyren 
nttlten Sinfiu^ auf bag £eben beg grcfjen £icfjterg serfolgen 
mil, fann Gtfyarictten tn <24>itferg £eben, aug ben Cmnnerun- 
gen (einer greunbe gefcpepfr, nafyer fennen lerneru 



XLVIII 

ber of dramatic plans occupied his attention, whereof a 
part was found among his literary remains. 

He had also found a subject for a Comedy, but he felt 
himself too much of a stranger in this field. He thus 
wrote to a friend on the subject: 

" I believe that I am equal to the kind of comedy where 
it depends more upon joining the incidents in a comical 
manner, than upon comical characters and humor; but 
my disposition, however, is too sober, and what has no 
depth cannot attract me for any length of time." After 
he had translated Phedre, he commenced a new dramatic 
poem, of which the story of the false Demetrius of Kussia 
was the subject. While occupied with this work, in the 
full knowledge and enjoyment of his mental faculties, he 
was stricken down. *He suffered a severe re- 
"- ' J lapse of his old disease of the breast, and died 
May 9th, 1805. 

He left a widow, two sons, and two daughters, Of his 
three sisters, the youngest died before him ; the eldest mar- 
ried Hofrath Eeinwald, in Meiningen ; the second, Herr 
Frankh, the clergyman of Meckmuehl, in Wiirtemberg. 

Schiller's features are most faithfully and intellectually 
reproduced, in a colossal bust, by Dannecker, in Stuttgard. 
A life-size bust, undertaken some time previously, for 
which Schiller had sat during his last sojourn in Suabia, 
was relinquished in consequence ; and the noble hearted 
artist, when plunged into the greatest grief at the news 
of his friend's death, at once resolved to execute this im- 
mortal work on a larger scale, in a grander style, and with 
all the means in his power. 

With Goethe's words on Schiller, we close this sketch : 

f Burned in his cheeks, with ever deepening fire, 
The spirit's youth, which never passes by, — 



t We have borrowed the translation of these verses from James F. 
Clarke. We are also indebted to Thomas Carlyle and John S. Dwight 
for occasional translations of Schiller's letters.— Ed. 

(66) 



XL IX 

The courage, which, though worlds in hate conspire, 
Conquers at last their dull hostility, — 

The lofty Faith, which, ever mounting higher, 
Now presses on, now waiteth patiently, 

By which the good tends ever towards his goal, 

By which Day lights at last the generous soul. 

Many there were who, while he dwelt on earth, 
Hardly due honor to his powers would pay, 

But now are overshadowed by his worth, 
Willingly subject to his magic lay. 

Up to the highest borne, a second birth 

Links him with all the Best that's passed away. 

Then honor him ! What life but poorly gave, 

An after -world shall heap above his grave. 



(67) 



[*xlvii] ^CHARLOTTE YON SCHILLER. 

Charlotte von Schiller, nee Lengefeld, was born 
1766, in Schwarzburg-Kudolstadt. She was married to 
Schiller in February, 1790; and, for fifteen years, was his 
happy and faithful companion. 

Nothing but ever-recurring fears for his health, could 
dim the existence of this good and beautiful being. In 
spring, the sixteenth year of their marriage, death tore 
him from her loving embrace, and from the world. 

Charlotte lived wholly in Schiller, and only for him. 
It was a necessity with Schiller to have always around 
him a being full of pure, intellectual susceptibility for the 
reception of his ideas, and in his communications Char- 
lotte found hei; greatest happiness. "She gladly followed, 
for it was an easy, a loving task to follow." She was 
gifted with a decided taste, for her mental faculties were 
in harmony. Her sentiments were frequently accepted 
by him as a decisive j udgment. The abhorrence for every- 
thing common was as strong in her as in him. 

She was the wife he so much needed. He could gaze 
upon the clear ground of this being, in whom there lay 
nothing concealed, aye, for whom it was even impossible 
to utter a word that was not the true picture of her feel- 
ings and thoughts. The refreshing breath of blooming 
Phantasy sighed through her life, and its companion, 
Hope, preserved in Charlotte, what was so beneficial to 
Schiller, life and spirit. Independence and character 
may avail to stem dire necessity, but the charm of inter- 
course alone can spring from these heavenly powers. 

(68) 



LI 

Charlotte's letters are written with a peculiar grace. 
Grasping everything earnest and ennobling, yet having 
a fine feeling for the minor occurrences of every-day life, 
and looking upon them in a cheerful, often in a comical 
light, her letters depict the present moment in a clear and 
spirited style. 

After Schiller's death she devoted her life to the careful 
education of her four good and talented chil- f ^ .. 

dren. *She lived to see her two sons happily 
married. 

An affection of the eyes, threatening total blindness, 
saddened her closing years. She bore this affliction with 
courage and resignation, and enjoyed many happy days 
with her children, in the circle of worthy friends from 
Suabia. After a successful operation, promising the com- 
plete restoration of her eyesight, she was struck with 
palsy. She died in the arms of her children, at Bonn, 
July, 1826. Her last hours were tranquil. Her mind 
wandering, she failed to realize the pangs of parting from 
those nearest and dearest to her, and departed this life 
revelling in the realms of friendly Phantasy. Whoever 
feels attracted by Charlotte's intellectual superiority and 
goodness of soul, as here delineated, and would know more 
of the mild and beneficial influence she exercised on the 
great poet's life, may consult Schiller's life, drawn from 
the memoirs of his friends. 

H. D. W. 

Philadelphia, November, 1871. 



(69) 



TRANSLATORS. 


Anonymous. 


Eliot, S. A. 


B., F. 


Florence. 


Bancroft, Gt. 


Frothingham, N. L. 


Baskerville, Alfred. 


Furness, W. H. 


Bowring, Edgar Alfred. 


German Wreath. 


Brooks, Charles T. 


H. 


Bolwer, Sir Edward Lytton. 


Hedge, F. H. 


Carlyle, Thomas. 


Hemans, Felicia. 


Channing, William H. 


Hem pel, Charles J. 


Clarke, James F. 


Impey, E. B. 


Coleridge. 


L. 


Cranch, C. P. 


Mangan, James Clarence. 


Dulcken, H. W. 


Merivale, John Herman. 


Dwight, John S. 


Periodicals : 


Editor. 


The North American Review. 


Egerton, Lord Francis. 


The Edinburgh Review. 


(in) (70) 



<irMd)te 



ter 



erftcn ^ e r t i> e« 



©$fttetf fctmmil. 2B eric I. 



POEMS 



THE FIRST PERIOD. 



(i) 



Slnbromacfye. 
2BtU fldj defter etoicj oon mir toenben, 
28o 2iduU mit ben unnafybarn £anben 
£em *patroflu3 fcfyrecflicfy Dpfer brtngt? 
#3er tt>irt> fiinfttg beinen Clemen lefyren 
(Bpeere toerfen unb tie ©otter eleven, 
2Genn ber ftnftre Drfu3 bid) oerfdjlingt? 

£eftor. 
Ztyuxt$ 2Betb, gebtete beinen Sfyranen! 
yiafy ber gelbfd)lad>t ift mein feurig ©efynen, 
S)ic(e 2lrme fd)ii£en 5)era,amu3, 
^lampfenb fur ben ijetl'gen £erb ber ©otter 
gall' id), unb be$ Saterlanbes better 
©teig' id) nieber 3U bem ftpg'fcfyen glufu 

2lnbromad)e* 
dimmer laufd)' id) beiner SBajfen ©djatfe, 
SDtitpig liegt bein Sifen in ber ^>alle, 
$)rtam£ grower £elbenftamm oerbirbt 
2)n toirft l)inget)n, too fein Za$ metyr fdjeinet, 
S)er (SocptuS burd> bie SBitften toetner, 
£)eine Stebe in bem £erf)e jHrfet, 

£eftor. 
SJtf mein ©etjnen mU id), aU mdn £)en?en, 
3n be» Setfye ftifleu ©trom oerfenfen, 
SXber metne £iebe nid)t 
Jpord)! ber SBilbe toot fcfyon an ben Sttauew, 
©iirte mir ba» ©cfyioerbt urn, la£ ba$ £rauew! 
£eftor$ Siebe ftirbt im Set^e nicfyt. 



(3) 



HECTOR'S FAREWELL. 

Andromache. 
Art thou. Hector, hence forever going 
Where Achilles, with fierce vengeance glowing, 

To Patroclus piles a hecatomb ? 
Who, alas ! will teach thine Infant truly 
Spears to hurl, the Gods to honor duly, 

When thou'rt buried in dark Orcus 1 womb ? 
Hector. 
Dearest wife, restrain thy tearful sadness ! 
For the fray my bosom pants with madness, 

This stout arm must Pergamus defend ; 
For my household Gods all dangers braving, 
Should I fall, my Fatherland in saving, 

To the Stygian flood I'll glad descend. 
Andromache. 
For thy clashing arms I vain shall listen, 
In thy halls thy glaive will idly glisten, 

Priam's hero-race in dust will lie ; 
Thou wilt go, where day can enter never, 
Where Cocytus wails 'mid deserts ever, 

And thy Love in Lethe's stream will die. 
Hector. 
Though the ardent hopes, the thoughts I cherish, 
All in Lethe's silent stream may perish, 

Yet my Love shall never die ! 
Hark ! I hear the foe the walls assailing ! 
Gird my sword around me, — cease thy wailing ! 

Hector's Love in Lethe cannot die ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



(3) 



<B&on ftjic (SngeT ootl ©albadac SSonnc, 

Scroti por alien 3iingtingen war ^ r ; 
£immlifd> milb feitt 33Ucf, mie Sftaienfonne, 

£Riidgejtral)[t pom blanen Spiegelmeer, 

Seine ^iijje — parabiefifdj giiblen! 
2Bie 3100 ^fammen jid) ergrcifen, wic 

£arfentbne in einanber fpielen 
3u ber fyimmebollen harmonic — 

©titrjten, ffcgen, fcfymelgen ©eift nnb ©eijr jnfammen, 

Sippen, 23angen brannten, jitrerten, 
©eele rann in Seele — Srb" nnb £immel fdjwammen* 

23ie jervonnen urn tie Stebenben! 

Sr ifl bin — pergeben*, a$l PergebenS 

Stbbnet i^m ber bange ©eufger nadj! 
(Sr ift f)in, nnb atle Suft bes 2eben3 

SBimmert §in in ein perlorneS 21$ I 



itte Jeidjcnpfjcwfafie. 



Sftit erfrorbnem Scbeinen 

<5re§t ter Sftonb auf tofctenjiiffen £atnen, 

Senfsenb (tretd)t ter 9cad}tgeift bnrd) tie Snft 
SRebelwoifm fcfyaucrn, 
(Sterne trauern 

231ei$ fyerab, toie dampen in ber ©ruft 
©letch ©efpenjtern, fiumm nnb |o$l nnb fjager, 

3ie^t in [djroargcm iobtenpompe bort 
Sin ©enummct nad) tern S-etcbenlager 

Unterm ©cfyauerftot ber ©rab.uad)t fort 



AM ALIA. 

Angel-fair, Walhalla's charms displaying, 
Fairer than all mortal youths was he ; 

Mild his look, as May-day sunbeams straying 
Gently o'er the blue and glassy sea. 

And his kisses ! — what ecstatic feeling ! 

Like two flames that lovingly entwine, 
Like the harp's soft tones together stealing 

Into one sweet harmony divine, — 

Soul and soul embraced, commingled, blended, 
Lips and cheeks with trembling passion burned ; 

Heaven and Earth, in pristine Chaos ended, 
Eound the blissful Lovers madly turned. 

He is gone — and, ah ! with bitter anguish 
Vainly now I breathe my mournful sighs ; 

He is gone — in hopeless grief I languish, 
Earthly joys I ne'er again can prize I 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



A EU^ERAL-PHANTASY. 

Lo ! on high the moon, her lustre dead, 
O'er the death-like grove uplifts her head, 

Sighing flits the spectre through the gloom- 
Misty clouds are shivering, 
Pallid stars are quivering, 

Looking down, like lamps within a tomb. 
Spirit-like, all silent, pale, and wan, 

Marshalled in procession dark and sad, 
To the sepulchre a crowd moves on, 

In the grave-night's dismal emblems clad. 



3''rternb an ber Stxudt 

2Ser mtt btifterm, riicfgefunfnem Slide, 

Slu^gegojfen in tin fyeulenb 21$, 
©turner genecft som eifernen ©efcfyide, 

©djroanft bem fiummgetragnen Sarge nac(j? 
$lc§ e3 „ s $ater" r>on be3 3ungftng3 2ippe? 

Sfajfe (Scfyauer fcfrauern fiircbterlidj 
S)urd) fein gramgefdjmolsenes ©ertppe, 

©etite ©tlbertyaare fcamnen ft«§. — 

2lufgerifjen feine ^euermunbe! 

£)urd) bte ©eele £i>Ceni"djmer$! 
„2*ater" flog e3 son bey 3ungting$ 9Kunbe, 

„3o|n" geltepeft fyat Da$ 3Sater!jer$. 
(£U?a(t, etcfa f t Hegt er fyter im Sucfre, 

UnU betn Xraum, fo gotcen emit fa fitp! 
©u(j unb golden, better, bir gum ^lucfye! 
gtefalt, etefatt tiegt er bier im Xucfye, 

Dane SOBonae unb bent ^arabiea! 

SWtlb, wte, unwept son Gfyfturns'Iuftett, 

SBie, aus" Aurora 3 Umarmung g;fcfylupft, 
$imm(tf$ umgiirtet mit rojtgteit Ditften, 

glorens eofyn iiber bas" 23(umenfelD fyiipfr, 
Slog er einber ax\ ten lacfyetxben SBiefett, 

SfcadjgefpiegeU &on fiiberner §tuitj, 
SBolluftflammett entfpriifyten ben ^iiffen, 

3agten bie iOtatcfyen in Itebenbe ©lutfj. 

SBtottjtg fprartg er im ©ettmftle ber 9flenf$en, 
S3ie auf ©.birgen em jugmtlicb 9ieb; 

£imm (urn (log er in fd)tt>etfenben ©imfcfyen, 
£odj »ic bte Slblev in ioo(!igter £ol) j 



Who is he, who, trembling on his crutch, 

Walks with gloomy and averted eye, 
And bowed down by Destiny's harsh touch, 
Vents his sorrow in a mournful sigh 
O'er the coffin borne in silence by ? 
Was it " Father ! " from the youth's lips came ? 

Soon a damp and fearful shudder flies 
Through his grief-emaciated frame, 
And his silvery hairs on end uprise. 

All his fiery wounds now bleed anew ! 

Through his soul, hell's bitter torments run ! 
" Father !" 'twas that from the youth's lips flew, 

And the Father's heart hath whispered, "Son !" 
Ice-cold, ice-cold, in his shroud he lies, — 
By thy dream, so sweet and golden erst, 
Sweet and golden, Father, thou art curst ! 
Ice-cold, ice-cold, in his shroud he lies, 
Who was once thy joy, thy Paradise ! 

Mild, as when fanned by Elysian gale, 

Flora's son over the verdant plain skips, 
Girded with roses that fragrance exhale, 
. When from the arms of Aurora he slips, — 
Onward he sped o'er the sweet-smiling field, 

Mirrored below i)i the silvery flood ; 
Eapturous flames in his kiss were concealed, 
Chasms the maidens in amorous mood. 



Boldly he sprang 'mid the stir of mankind, 
As o'er the mountains a youthful roe springs ; 

Heavenward ascended his wish unconfined, 
High as the eagle his daring flight wings. 



6 

&to^ tote bte Stoffe ftdj ftrdnben unb fcfyaumen, 
SCerfen im (Sturme bte SSftafynen umfyer, 

^onigltd) totber ben 3^get ft$ Bdumen, 
Xvat er i?or ©flatten unb gtirften bafyer* 

fetter, tote griifyttnggtag, fcfjtoanb. ifym bag Men, 

glofy i&m ttoriiber in ipefperuS (5Han$, 
.ftlagen ertrdnlf er im ©olbe ber $eben, 

©djme^en serppft' er im toirBelnben Zan%. 
SBelten fdjltefnt im Jjerrltdjett 3ungen, 

£a! Motrin er einften sum ?D?anne gereift — 
$reue bid), 2$ater — im fyerrlicfyen 3w«9^ 

2Benn einft bie fcfytafenben ^etrne gereift! 

9?eitt bo$ $ater — £or$! bte ^ird^ofrfyitre fcraufet, 

Unb bie efyrnen 2Inge( fttrren auf — 
353 te^ fyinetn in3 d3raBgetoo(Be granfet! — 

5^ein bod), taJ3 ben Xfyrctnen ifyren Sauf ! 
©el), bu £>olber, get) im 5) fab ber (Sonne 

greubig toetter ber SSoflenbung $u, 
Sofc^e nnn ben ebeln £)nrft nad) 28onne, 

©ramentbunbner, in 2BalfjatIa3 9tu$l 

28ieberfefjen — tjimmlifd^r ©ebattfe! — 

SSMeberfefyett bort an (SbenS Xfyor! 
£ord)! ber @arg aerffrtft mit bumpftgem ©efdjtoanfe, 

SBtmmemb fcfynurrt bag Sobtenfeil empor! 
©a toir trunfen urn einanber rottten, 

Sippen fd)toiegen, unb bag 5luge fpradj — 
£aftet! fyaltet! — ba toir boStjaft groflten — 

2loer Sfcjjranen ftur^ten todrmer nad) 

Wit erfbrfmem ©d)einen 
©teM ber s JD?onb auf tobtenftiHen £>ainen, 
©eufjenb ftreicl)t ber 9hd)tgetft burdj bie Suft 



Proud as the steeds that in passion their manes, 
Foaming and champing, toss round in wild waves, 

Rearing in majesty under the reins, 
Stood he alike before monarchs and slaves. 

Bright as a spring-day, his life's joyous round 

Fleeted in Hesperus' glory away ; 
Sighs in the grape's juice all-golden he drowned, 

Sorrow he stilled in the dance light and gay. 
Worlds were asleep in the promising boy, 

Ha ! when he once as a man shall be ripe, — 
Father, rejoice — in thy promising boy, 

Soon as the slumbering germ shall be ripe ! 

Not so, Father — hark ! the churchyard gates 

Groan, and lo, the iron hinges creak ! — 
See, the dreaded tomb its prey awaits ! — 

Not so — let the tears course down thy cheek I 
Toward Perfection, loved one, hasten on, 

In the sun's bright path with joy proceed ! 
Quench thy noble thirst for bliss alone 

In Walhalla's peace, from sorrow freed ! . 

Ye will meet — oh, thought of rapture full ! — 

Yonder, at the gate of Paradise ! 
Hark ! the coffin sinks with echo dull ; 

As it re-ascends, the death-rope sighs ! 
Then, with sorrow drunk, we madly rolled, 

Lips were silent, but the mute eye spoke — 
Stay, oh, stay ! — we grudged the tomb so cold ; 

But soon warmer tears in torrents broke. 

Lo ! on high the moon, her lustre dead, 
O'er the death-like grove uplifts her head, 
Sighing flits the spectre through the gloom — 



?fteMtt> often fefyanern, 
Sterne trauern 
33!:irf) berab, rate Sampen in ber ©ruft 
2)umpftg ftfyo Cert's iiberm <Sat-g gnm ipiiget — 

O nm (Srbbatte (Bcfya^e nnr nod) einen Slid! — 
(Starr nnt> eroig fd)lte§t be3 ©rabeS SRieget, 
£)umpfer — bumpfer fdjo Cert's iiberm ©arg jum £itgel, 
Shimmer gibt bas ©rao jurudk, 



^Ijanfafie an Jtoura. 

Sfteine Sanra! nenne mir ben SBiroet, 
Der an ^orper jtorper madjttg reift! 

Sfcnne, metne Sanra, ntir ben Saubex, 
£)er $nm ©aft geroalttg jtoingt ttn ©eift! 

©ietj ! er tefyrt bie fdjroeoenben ^laneten 
(Sto'gen SftinggangS nm bie (Bonne flte^n, 

Unb, gfeidj jtinbern nm bie Gutter fyiipfenb, 
SBunte givtd nm bie giirftin siefyn* 

£)nrftig trtnlt ben gotbnen ©traljtenregen 

3ebes roflenbe ©eftirn, 
S£rinft auS ifyrem generfeldj (Srqnicfnng, 

S55ic bie ©libber leben oom ©efyirn. 

<5onn?nftaubd):n paart mit ©onnenftano^en 

©id) in tranter iparmonte, 
©pfyaren in einanber lenft bie Steoe, 

SBettfofteme banern nnr bnrdj fte* 

£ilge fie oom Ubrroerf ber 9ktnren — 
Srummmtb auS einanber fprirtgt baS Wl, 

3n baS fifeao.3 bonnern eure SQelten, 
355:int, 9?eiotone, ibren 0liefenfattl 



Misty clouds are shivering, 
Pallid stars are quivering, 
Looking down, like lamps within a tomb. 
Dully o'er the coffin earth-flakes rise, — 

All the wealth of earth for one look more ! 
Now the grave barred up forever lies ; 
Duller, duller o'er the coffin earth-flakes rise ; 
Never will the grave its prey restore ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



PHANTASY— TO LATTKA. 

Name, my Laura, name the whirl compelling 

Bodies to unite in one blest whole — 
Name, my Laura, name the wondrous magic 

By which Soul rejoins its kindred Soul ! 

See ! it teaches yonder roving Planets 

Round the sun to fly in endless race ; 
And as children play around their mother, 

Checkered circles round the orb to trace. 

Every rolling star, by thirst tormented, 
Drinks with joy its bright and golden rain — 

Drinks refreshment from its fiery chalice, 
As the limbs are nourished by the brain. • 

'Tis through Love that atom pairs with atom, 

In a harmony eternal, sure ; 
And 'tis Love that links the spheres together — 

Through her only, systems can endure. 

Were she but effaced from Nature's clock-work, 
Into dust would fly the mighty world ; 

O'er thy systems thou would'st weep, great Newton, 
When with giant force to Chaos hurled ! 



Z'iicj, bte ©etttn aus ber ©etjler Drben, 
@ie erftarren in ber $orper Job; 

£>tme 2tebe tYjjrt feirt grii&Itng nneber, 
£)§ne Siebe preist fein SSefett ©ott! 

Uttb ttas ifi'S, bas, tr-enn mtdj Saura riijfet, 
spurpurflammen auf bte $3angen geujjjt, 

Sfteinem ^erjen rafdjern ©dfonmng gebietet, 
gieferifdj nnlb mem Slut son fytnnen reift? 

2Iu* ben ©d)ranfen fdjttjetfen atle (Setynen, 

(Seine Ufer iibermaUt bas 23 (ur, 
$orpcr mid in ^orper ii&er ftitr,en, 

Sobern ©eelen in seretnrer ©httt^ 

©leid) atfmacbttg, tote bort in ber tobteti 

©dwpfung-ero'gem gebertrieb, 
iperrfcfyt im aradjneifd)en ©eroebe 

S)er empftnbenben SRatur bie £teb\ 

(Siebe, Saura, $rot)ttdjfett ntnarmet 
SSilber @djmer3en Ue&erfdjiDung; 

2In ber £offnung SiebeSbrujt enr-armet 
(Starrenbe SSerjweifelung,. 

CSd->rt>efterttc^e SBottufl milbert 
£)uftrer ©cfywermutfy ©cbauernac^r, 

Unb entbunben son ben goibnen ^inbern 
(Strait ba3 5Iuge ©onnenpradjt. 

SBaTtet ntdjt an* burdj be3 UebetS ditifyt 

5urd)terttdje ©pmpatljte? 
Sfttt ber £o(Ie bufyten unfre ? after, 

SDttt bem £immel grollen fie* 



Blot the Goddess from the Spirit Order, 
It would sink in death, and ne'er arise ; 

Were Love absent, spring would glad us never ; 
Were Love absent, none their God would prize I 

What is that, which, when my Laura kisses, 
Dyes my cheek with flames of purple hue, 

Bids my bosom bound with swifter motion, 
Like a fever wild my veins runs through ? 

Every nerve from out its barriers rises, 
O'er its banks the blood begins to flow ; 

Body seeks to join itself to Body, 
Spirits kindle in one blissful glow. 

Powerful as in the dead creations 

That eternal impulses obey, 
O'er the web Arachne-like of Nature, — 

Living Nature, — Love exerts her sway I 

Laura, see how Joyousness embraces 

E'en the overflow of sorrows wild I 
How e'en rigid desperation kindles 

On the loving breast of Hope so mild I 

Sisterly and blissful rapture softens 

Gloomy Melancholy's fearful night, 
And, delivered of its golden Children, 

Lo, the eye pours forth its radiance bright I 

Does not awful Sympathy rule over 
E'en the realms that Evil calls its own ? 

For 'tis Hell our crimes are ever wooing, 
While they bear a grudge 'gainst Heaven alone ! 



Urn bte (siittbe flecbten <Sd)taitgetttotrM 

(2d)am uttb Sfteu*, ba$ Sumenibenpaar, 
Urn ber ®ro§e 2lblerflttgel rcintet 

©idj »erratf)rtfdj tie QDefa§r» 

SDlit bem @tol$e pflegt ber @tur$ ju tanbeltt, 
Urn baa ©litcf $u flammern ftdj ber Sfctb, 

3^rem 53ruber £obe jujufprmgen, 
Dffitett 2lrme3, @dj»ejfar Sufterntjeik. 

2fltt ber SteBe gtiigel eilt bie Buhtttft 
3nbie 2Irme ber ^ergangertfyett, 

£ange fudjt ber fliefjenbe SaturnuS 
(Seine 23raut — bie Saugfeit. 

ginfl — fo tjor 1 Idj bets Drafel fpredjett, 
Stnften Ijafdjt ©aturn bie S3raut; 

S&eltenbranb toirb ^poc^jeitfacfel merbett, 
SBenn mtt Srcigfeit bie gtit jtdj traut 

(Sine f$onere Slurora rottjet, 

£aura, bann audj urtfrer Sieoe fldj, 

S)te fo lartg aU letter 33rautnadjt bauert, 
£aura! Saura! freuebidjl 



^aura am plainer. 

SBettn betn finger bur$ bte (Satten metjtert, 
£aura, tfjt jitr Statue enfgeiftert, 

3fct entfb'rpert jfcfj' tdj ba. 
©u g.'Meteft it&er Job uttb Se&ett, 
9ft adj rig t»te son tattfertb iftersgeroeftett 

(S^elett forbert $l)i(abe[p§ta„ 



Shame, Bepentance. pair Eumenides-like, 
Weave round sin their fearful serpent-coils ; 

While around the eagle-wings of Greatness 
Treacherous danger winds its dreaded toils. 

Ruin oft with Pride is wont to trifle, 
Envy upon Fortune loves to cling ; 

On her brother, Death, with arms extended, 
Lust, his sister, oft is wont to spring. 

On the wings of Love the Future hastens 

In the arms of Ages past to lie ; 
And Saturnus, as he onward speeds him, 

Long hath sought his bride — Eternity ! 

Soon Saturnus will his bride discover, — 

So the mighty Oracle hath said ; 
Blazing Worlds will turn to marriage torches 

When Eternity with Time shall wed ! 

Then a fairer, far more beauteous morning, 
Laura, on our Love shall also shine, 

Long as their blest bridal-night enduring : — 
So rejoice thee, Laura — Laura mine ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



TO LAXJEA AT THE HAKPSICHOKD. 

When" o'er the chords thy fingers stray, 
My spirit leaves its mortal clay, 

A statue there I stand ; 
Thy spell controls e'en life and death, 
As when the nerves a living breath 

Receive by Love's command I 



10 

(SfjrerBietig Tetfer raufd)en 
'©arm bie'Sitfte, btr £u lanfdjen; 

iMngef^mtebet mm ©efang 

©tefyn im em'gen SBtrbelgang, 
(Sinmjie&n bie ^Bonnefiitte, 
£aufd)enbe 9mturen ftille* 

^aubertn! mit Sonen, wit 

Sftidj mit 23Iicfen, 3tt>ingft bu fle, 

©eelenijotfc Jparmonien ttummetn, 

(Sin ttotluftig Ungeftum, 
5m3 ben ©atten, rote aus itjren ^immetn 

Sfteugebotne ©erapfytm; 
SCte, be<3 £()ao$.$Uejenarm entronnen, 
Slufgejagt \)om ©'djopfunggfhirm, bie (Sonnen 

gunfelnb fuftren aus ber 9lad)t, 

©triimt ber £one 3aubermact)t. 

£ieBli6 M r rote iifcer glatten ^iefeftt 
(SUBerfyefle gtutfyen rtefetn, 

SD^aieftattfd) pracfytig nun, 

HQie beg DonnetS Crgeltott, 
(Stiirmenb i?on f)tnnen tfct, rote ftc^ ttoit f^etfen 
sftaufcfyenbe, fcfyattmenbe ©icpba^c roalgen, 

£o(beS ©efdufel Mb, 
(g>d)metd()fertfdj linbe, 

SBte burd) ben (Sfpenroalb 
23ut)Ienbe SBtnbe* 

©-ftroerer mm wnb meIand)oTtf$ bitfier, 
SB.eburcB tobter SBiiften ©c&auentadjtgeflujter, 
2Bo perlorncg ^enten fdjroeift, 
ZfyxhxmwtUtn ber (Eocptu^ fdjleift. 



10 

More gently Zephyr sighs along 
To listen to thy magic song ; 

The systems formed by heavenly love 

To sing forever as they move, 
Pause in their endless-whirling round 
To catch the rapture-teeming sound ; 

'Tis for thy strains they worship thee, — 

Thy look, Enchantress, fetters me ! 

From yonder chords fast-thronging come 

Soul-breathing notes with rapturous speed, 
As when from out their heavenly home 

The new-born Seraphim proceed ; 
The strains pour forth their magic might, 
As glittering suns burst through the night, 

When, by Creation's storm awoke, 

From Chaos' giant-arm they broke. 

Now sweet, as when the silvery wave 
Delights the pebbly beach to lave ; 
And now majestic as the sound 
Of rolling thunder gathering round ; 
Now pealing more loudly, as when from, yon height 
Descends the mad mountain-stream, foaming and 
bright ; 
Now in a song of love 

Dying away, 
As through the aspen grove 
Soft zephyrs play ; 

Now heavier and more mournful seems the strain, 
As when across the desert, death-like plain, 
Whence whispers dread and yells despairing rise, 
Cocytus' sluggish, wailing current sighs. 



11 



9ftabc&en, fprtdj! 3$ frctge, gift mtr jfrtnbe: 
©tefojt mit Ijotymt ©eijfern bn tnt 33nnbe? 

3\V$ bie ©pradje, Hig mtr nidjt, 

£)te man in Styfett fprid)t! 



pie c^nfsHcRun^ an <^aura. 

£anra, itBer biefe SBett git fliicfyten 

S&tyn' id) — midj in ipimmelmaiengtang gu listen 

SQBeittt bein 931td in meinc Slide fltmmtj 
Stet^erliifte traum' id) eingnfcmgen, 
2Benn metn 23tfb in betner \anfon 2htgen 

£tmmelblanem Spiegel fdjmimmt, 

SeierHang au$ ^arabiefe* gernen, 

£ar fen fd) mint g auS angenebmern ©ternett 

9taf id) in mein trnnfneS Dtjr gu gtefyn; 
5JZeine 9ft ufe fiifjlt bie (Bcfyaferjhmbe, 
S3enn son beinem n?otln[tbei£en Sftunbe 

(Stfoerrone nngern fltefjn. 

SImoretten frij 1 idj ^litget fdj tout gen 
Winter bir bie trunfnen gid)ten fpringen, 

SBte oon Orpheus' <5attenrnf belebt; 
$tafd)er rotten nm mid) $er bie $o(e, 
SBenn im 2BirMtan$e betne ©ot)(e 

Sfudjttg, toie bie SGette, fdjtoebt 

£)eine Slide — toenn fte SteBe tac^?Tn f 
$omt ten Seben bnrd) ben Sftarmor fad)ettt, 

gelfenabern $u(fe teibn ; 
£rattme toerben urn mid) fyer gn SBefett, 
Statin id) nnr in beinen 2lngen lefert j 

2aura,.£aura metn! 



11 

Maiden fair, oh, answer me ! 

Are not spirits leagued with thee ? 
Speak they in the realms of bliss 
Other language e'er than this ? 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



RAPTURE— TO LAURA. 

Laura — above this world methinks I fly, 
And feel the glow of some May-lighted sky, 

When thy looks beam on mine ! 
And my soul drinks a more ethereal air, 
"When mine own shape I see reflected, there, 

In those blue eyes of thine ! 

A lyre-sound from the Paradise afar, 

A harp-note trembling from some gracious star, 

Seems the wild ear to fill ; 
And my muse feels the Golden Shepherd-hours, 
When from thy lips the silver music pours 

Slow, as against its will. 

I see the young Loves flutter on the wing — 

Move the charmed trees, as when the Thracian's string 

Wild life to forests gave ; 
Swifter the globe's swift circle seems to fly, 
When in the whirling dance thou glidest by, 

Light as a happy wave. 

Thy looks, when there Love's smiles their gladness 

wreathe, 
Could life itself to lips of marble breathe ; 

Lend rocks a pulse divine ; 
My wildest dreams a life would take, indeed, 
If I but this in thy dear eyes might read — 
"Laura, sweet Laura, mine!" 

Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. 



12 



pas $eljdmui§ hex 'gtemhufcetis. 

Sin 2aura, 

(gwtg flarr an beinem Slftnnb gu tjangen, 
SBer entfyiittt mir biefeS ©httl^ertangen? 
28er bte 335otIuft, beinen $auft) ju trtnfett, 
3n bein SBefen, toenn ft dj SBlidc minfen, 
©terBenb $u serftnfen? 

$TteBen ntdjt, tote ofyne SBiberftreBen 
©ilaoett an ben (Sieger ffdj ergeBen, 
9JMne ©eifter fjinim SfugenBHcfe, 
(Sttirmenb itBer meines 2eBen3 33ru<fe, 
S3enn t$ bid) erBItcfe? 

@pri$! toarnm entlaufen fte bent Sfftetfter? 
@ud)en bort bie £>eimattj metne <35etfter ? 
Dber ftnben ftdj getrennte 23ritber, 
£o3geriffen son bent S5anb ber ©Heber, 
Sort Bet bir ftdj toieber? 

SGaren nnfre 2Befen fc^ott tterflodjten? 
$5ar eg bemtm, ba§ bie iper^en pocBren ? 
SBaren mir tm ©trafyl erlofcBner ©onnen, 
3n ben £agen kng tierranfdjter SBonnen, 
©djon in (£tn^ jerronnen? 

3<*, tot* toaren's! — 3nntg ntir serBnnben 
SBarft bn in 2leonen, bie s>erfd)it>nnben$ 
SSJMne 9ftnfe fat) eS anf ber tritBen 
£afel ber SSergangen^ett gefdjrieBen 5- 

Sing mit beinem SieBen I 

Unb in tnntg feffoerBnnbnem 33ef?n, 
Sllfo §ab' td)'$ ftaunenb bort gelefen, 



12 



THE MYSTERY OF REMINISCENCE. 

TO LAURA. 

"Who, and what gave to me the wish to woo thee — 
Still, lip to lip, to cling for aye unto thee ? 
Who made thy glances to my soul the link — 
Who bade me burn thy very breath to drink — 
My life in thine to sink ? 

As from the conqueror's unresisted glaive, 
Flies, without strife subdued, the ready slave — 
So, in an instant, when thy looks I see, 
Out from my life my soul's wild senses flee, 
And yield themselves to thee ! 

Why from its lord doth thus my soul depart ? — 
Is it because its native home thou art ? 
Or were they brothers in the days of yore, 
Twin-bound, both souls ; and in the links they bore 
Sigh to be bound once more ? 

Were once our beings blent and intertwining, 
And therefore still my heart for thine is pining ? 
Knew we the light of some extinguished sun— 
The joys remote of some bright realm undone, 
Where once our souls were Ojste ? 

Yes, it is so I — And thou wert bound to me 
In the long-vanished Eld eternally ! 
In the dark troubled tablets which enroll 
The Past — my Muse beheld this bless*ed scroll — 
" One with thy love my soul 1" 

Wondering and awed— I read, I read it there, 
How once one bright inseparate life we were, 



13 



SBaren wir ein ©ott, citt fcfyaffenb 2efjen, 
Unb nn3 warb, fie Ijerrfcfyenb ju bnrcfyweben 
grei bte SCelt gegeben. 

Hug entgegen goffen ^eftarqnetten 
(£rt>ig ftromenb tfyre SBoflufiwetten; 
Sftadjtig I oaten wir ber SMnge ©iegel, 
3u ber 2Ga^r()eit tid)tem (Sonnenfyiigef 

©djwang'ftd) unfer 3litgeL 

SBeine, Sanra! btefer ©ott ifl nimmer, 
2>n unb id} beS ©ottes fcfyiJtte Xxummtx, 
Unb in un3 etn unerfattltc^ £)rtngen, 
2)a$ oerlorne 2Befen eingufcfylingen, 

©ottfyeit 3U erfcfywingen.. 

2)arum, Saura, btefer ©lutljoertangen, 
Swig ftarr an beinem 9ftunb 3U Ijangen, 
Unb bte SBotfujt, beinen $au§ gn trinfen, 
3n bein SOBcfcn, wenn fid) 33fttfe winfen, 
(Bteroenb gu tterftnfen. 

3)arum fltetjn, wie o^ne 2Btberfireben 
©flaxen an ben @teger (Id? ergeben, 
SSftetne ©etfter fyin im Shtgenblttfe, 
©titrmenb iiber meineS 2eben3 23riitfe, 
2Benn tdj bid) erblicfe. 

©arum mtr entfaufen fte bent 9JMjler, 
3fyre £etmatl) fucfyen meine ©eifter, 
SoSgerafft oom ^ettenbanb ber ©lieber, 
^itffen ftdj bie langgetrennten 23ritber 
SSieberfennenb wteber. 

Unb and) bit — ba mid} bein Singe fpctfjte, 
2Ba$ oerrietf) ber 25angen spurpurrb'tije? 



13 

How once, one glorious essence as a God, 
Unmeasured space our chainless footsteps trod — 
All Nature our abode ! 

Round us, in waters of delight, forever 
Voluptuous flowed the heavenly Nectar river ; 
We were the master of the seal of things, 
And where the sunshine bathed Truth's mountain- 
springs 
Quivered our glancing wings. 

Weep for the godlike life we lost afar — 
Weep ! — thou and I its scattered fragments are ; 
And still the unconquered yearning we retain — 
Sigh to restore the rapture and the reign, 
And grow divine again. 

And therefore came to me the wish to woo thee — 
Still, lip to lip, to cling for aye unto thee ; 
This made thy glances to my soul the link — 
This made me burn thy very breath to drink — 
My life in thine to sink. 

And therefore, as before the conqueror's glaive, 
Flies, without strife subdued, the ready slave — 
So, in an instant, when thy looks I see, 
Out from my life my soul's wild senses flee, 
And yield themselves to thee. 

Therefore my soul doth from its lord depart, 
Because, beloved, its native home thou art ; 
Because the twins recall the links they bore, 
And soul with soul, in the sweet kiss of yore, 
Meets and unites once more ! 

Thou too — Ah, there thy gaze upon me dwells, 
And thy young blush the tender answer tells ; 
9 



14 



gIo*m tint rttc^t, aH ttaren ttnr tterttcmbter, 
Si'eub^cj, nuegur Jpeimatfy ein s £erbannter, 
©iittyenb an einanber? . 



'gftefandjofie cm cJaitra. 

£aura — Sonnenaufgangcgtutt) 
SSrennt in beinen gelbnen SSii&tn, 

%n ben SBangen fprtngt purpurifd) Slut, 

Seiner £[)rdnen $)erlenflurl) 
Neurit nod) Gutter £a3 (Sntaucfen — 

Xem ber fd)oite Irop'eu tfyaut, 

Xer barin 2}ergottrung fdjaut, 
5ld), tern 3uug(ing, ber belo^net nummerr, 
<5onnen [into il)tn aufgebdmm:rt! 

£):ine Scete, gtetd) ber ©pieqelroetle 
<5ilb:rflar unb (onnenl)elIe, 

Sftaiet nod) ben triiben .iperbft um bier); 

$3aft:iv 6b 1 unb fcbau^rltd), 
Sidjten ftd) in beiner ^trat)lenqueHe; 
£>uftrer 3ufnnft ^ebelferne 
®olb:t fid) in betnem Sterne; 

Sddjeift bu ber IRei^e £a;monie? 

Unb id) roeine iiber fte» — 

UntergruB b:nn nicbt ber Srbe 33efre 

£ange fd)on Ml JRetdj b^r 9hd)t? 
Unfre jfalj aufri)urm:nben 3)alafte, 

Unfrer Statute ma}e[tdrfd)e $>rad)t 
Sftnfym a IT auf mobernben ©vbetnen; 

2)eine 9c:lfen [augen fii jjen X)uft 
5lu? £erroe[ung; beine Cuetten nmnen 

2luo bem 23eden einer — ^nfcfyengrufr* 



14 

Each glowing soul still feels the kindred ties, 
Each — as an exile to his homeward skies — 
Each to the other flies. 

Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. 



MELANCHOLY— TO LAURA. 

Laura, — in thy golden gaze 

Burns the morning sunbeam's glow, 

In thy cheek the red biood plays, 
And thy tears, that pearl-like How, 
Rapture as their Mother know — 

He whom those fair drops bedew, 

Who therein a God can view, 
Ah, the youth who thus rewarded sighs, 

Sees new suns begin to rise ! 

And thy Spirit, bright and clear, 
As the glassy waves appear, 

Turns to May the Autumn sad ; 
Deserts wild, inspiring fear, 

In thy genial rays are glad. 
Distant Future, gloomy, cold, 
In thy star is turned to gold ; 
Smilest thou at the Graces' harmony ? 
I must weep those charms to see 1 

Have not Night's all-dreaded Powers 

Undermined Earth's fastness long ? 
Yes ! our proudly-soaring towers, 

And our cities, stately, strong, 
All on mouldering bones repose ; 

From Decay their fragrant bloom 
Drink thy flowers ; thy current flows 

From the hollow of a — tomb ! 



15 

SBIid empor — bte fdjtotmmenben ^laneten, 
£a$ bir, Saura, feme 2Belten reben I 

ttrttcr tfyrem 3 ir ^ P°^ n 

Saufenb bunte Cen^e fd)cm, 

Xtjiirmten taufenb Stjrone jtdj, 
£eulten taufenb ©$lad)ten furcfyterttc^. 

3n ben eifernen $luren 

©ud)e ifyre ©puren! 
$riil)er, fpdter reif 3um ©raB, 
Saufcn, ac^, bte 3taber ab 

Sin sptanetenufyretu 

SSHn^e bretmat — unb ber (Sonnen $ra$t 

Sofdjt im ?DZeer ber £obtennad)t! 
grage mid), son tsannen beinc (Straiten lobem! 

$rat)lft bu mit beg 2lugeS ©tuty? 

SJttt ber SBangen frifcfyem ^urpurbtut, 
Slbgeborgt son miirben SDIobern? 

SBwdjernb fiir$ gelietme 3ftot§, 

SBucfyernb, 9ftabd)en, ttirb ber £ob 
©cfywere 3 m f en fobernl 

SRebe, 9ftabd)en, nidjt bem (StarTcn §o§n! 

(Sine fd)5nre 2Sangenrotfye 
3ft bod) nur be$ SobeS fdjonrer 2^ron; 

Winter biefer blumigten Sapete 
©pamtt ben 23ogen ber 23erberber fdjon — 
©laub 1 e3 — glaub' eg, Saura, beinem ©djtoarmert 

ytux ber Job ifi's, bem bein fdjmadjtenb $uge nunft: 

3eber beiner ©trafylenbtide trinft 
S)eine$ SebenS larger Sampdjert armer; 

9Mne $ulfe, prafyleft bu, 



15 

Laura, yonder floating planets see ! 

Let them of their Worlds discourse to thee ! 
'Neath their magic circle's sway, 
Thousand springs have passed away, 

Thousand thrones the skies have sought, 
Thousand fearful fights been fought. 
Would'st thou find their trace again, 
Seek it on the iron plain ! 

Earlier, later, ripe to pass 

To the grave, — the wheels, alas, 
Of the Planets clogged remain I 

Thrice look round, — and lo ! the sun's bright rays 
In the death-night's Ocean quench their blaze ; 
Ask me how thy beams are fanned to flame I 
Dost thou boast thy sparkling eye, 
Or thy cheek's fresh purple dye, 
That from crumbling Mould first came ? 
For the hues he lent to thee, 
Maiden, Death with usury 
Heavy interest soon will claim ! 

Maiden, do not scorn that mighty one ! 

On the cheek a fairer, brighter dye 
Is, alas ! but Death's more beauteous throne ; 

From behind that flowery tapestry 
Marks his prey the Spoiler for his own. 
Laura — in thy Worshiper confide ! 

'Tis toward Death alone thine eyes now strain ; 

And thy beaming glances only drain 
Life's frail lamp so niggardly supplied. 
" Yet my pulses," boastest thou, 



16 



ipiipfen nodj fo jugertbltd) sort barmen — 
2ld)! Die ^reaturen be£ ^rannen 
©d)(agen tiidifcfy ber 23erroefung ju- 

2Iu3etrtanbrr Blast ber Job gefdjroinb 

£)iefe$ 2ad):ln, rote ber SBtnfc 
Sfogenbogenfarbige* ©efcfyaume. 

(Sroig frudjtlos fud)[t bu feirte <Bpnx f 

2lu3 bem grilling ber Sftatur, 
2Iu3 bem Seben, rote au$ feinem ^eime, 

SBadjji ber ero'ge 2Siirger nur. 

28elj! entblattert fe§' tdj betne 0tofen tiegen, 

S31cid) erftorben beirten fiifjen ;0iunb, 

UDeiner 2Sangen roattenbeS £ftunb 
23erben raufye 2Binterftiirme pfliigen, 

£>iiftrer 3afyre 9tebelfd)etn 
SBtrb ter 3"g^»b vStlberquelie truBen, 
X)ann rotrb Saura — £aura nid)t me§r IMen, 

£aura nidjt nufyr liebensrourbig fein* 

SD^abc^en — ftar! rote Sidje ftefyer nodj bein £)i$rer; 

©tumpf ait meiner 3ugenb -gel fenf raft 

9Uefcerfattt be£ Xobtenfpeeres Sdjaft; 
Wltine 33ltde — brennenb roie bie I'icfyter 

(Seines £tmmels — feuriger metit ©etfr, 
'Derm bie Sifter fcine$ ero'gen £immeU, 
£>er im ^teere eignen $3:ltgeroimmel3 

gelfen tfyiirmt unb nier>erretj?t; 
$iil)n burdj'S SBeltall fteuern bie ©ebanfen, 
gitrcfyten nitres — al$ feirte ©cfyranfen. 

©liil)ft bu, Saura? edjroitft bie ftofy Sruft? 
2ern e3, 9)iabd)en, biefer Sranf ber Suft, 



16 

" Throb in joyous youthful play " — 
Ah ! the Tyrant's creatures now 
Are but hastening towards Decay. 

And this smile the blast of Death 
Scatters, as the Zephyr's breath 

Scatters rainbow-colored foam. 
Yain thou seek'st to find its trace, 
E'en from Nature's spring-like grace, 

E'en from Life, as from his home, 
Sallies the Destroyer base ! 

Stripped of leaves I see thy lifeless roses, 

Pale and dead thy mouth so sweet of yore, 
And thy cheek, that dimples soft discloses, • 

By the wintry tempest furrowed o'er. 
Gloomy years will, gathering blacker, stronger, 

Cloud the silver-spring of Infancy — 
Then will Laura — Laura love no longer, 

Then will Laura lovely cease to be ! 

Maiden ! as an oak thy Bard still rears his head ; 

Blunt against my rock-like youthful might 
Falls the death-spear's shaft, its vigor lied ; 

And my glances, — burning as the light 
Of yon Heaven, — my Soul more fiercely glowing 

Than the light of yon eternal Heaven, 

O'er its own World's heaving Ocean driven, 
Piling rocks and overthrowing ; 
Boldly through the World my thoughts are steering, 
Nothing save their barriers fearing ! 

Glowest thou, Laura ?— Swells thy haughty breast ? 
Learn, then, Maiden, that this drink so blest, 



17 

SMefer $el<$, tt-otaug mir ©ottjeft bitftet — 

£aura — ift sergiftet ! 
Ungliicffetig ! nngliicffeUg ! tie eg ttagen, 
©ottetfunfen aug bem ©taut) gu f^Tagen* 

21$ ! bie lix^nftc ipatmonte 
SJMrft bag ©aitenfpiet ju Srnmmer, 

Unb ber Io$e ^etfyerftrafyl © e n t c 
Sftafyrt ftd) nur ttom Sebenglampenfcfyimmer — 

SBegbetrogen *>on beg Sebeng Ufyron, 

grofynt U)m jeber 2Bacfyter fcfyon! 
Sid) ! fcfyon fcfyrcoren fid), mi§brand)t §n freemen ^lammen, 
SKeine ©eifter nnber mid) gufammen ! 
£a§ — id) fii^Pg — lag, Santa, no$ gtoeen fur^e 

Settle fliegen — unb bteg -Iftoberljaug 
$Biegt fid) fcfymanfenb itber mir gum ©tur^e, 
Unb in eignem £traf)Ie iofdj' idj aug. — — 

SBetnjl bu, Santa? — Stjrane, fei serneinet, 
2)ie beg Slltetg ©trafioog mit ermetnet! 

2Beg! toetftege, £f)tane, ©imbertn! 
Saura tt>ifl, bafj meine $taft mtweidje, 
2)a£ id) gitternb nntet biefet ©onne fd)Ieidje, 

SDte beg 3una,Una,$ SIbletgang gefefyn? — 
£>a£ beg S3nfeng Itd)te iptmmelgflamme 
Sftit etftotnem Jpergett id) tterbamme, 
£)a£ bie Slugen metneg ©etjrS <oerbltnben, 
£)a£ id) fhtcfye metnen fd)onfteu (Siinben? 

*Mn! setftege, Stfyrane, ©iinberin! — 
53rid) bie S31nme in bet fd)onften <Sd)one, 
Sofd) 1 , o Siingling mit ber Srauermiene, 

9Mne ftadd meinenb au^* y 
2Bie ber 23orf)ang an ber £rauerbiil;ne 

Seiner* fdmmtl. Sffierfe. I. 2 



17 

That this cup of god-like seeming, 
Laura, is with Poison teeming I 
Hapless they who ever trust 
Sparks divine to forge from dust ! 

Ah ! the boldest Harmony 

'Mongst the notes but discord breeds, — 

Genius, glowing Spark from high, 
On Life's glimmering lamp but feeds. 

Lured from Life's bright throne away, 

Every G-aoler marks him as his prey ! 
Ah, e'en now, with shameless passion fired, 
'Gainst me all my Spirits have conspired 1 
Let — I feel it — two short springs fleet by, 

Laura — and this tottering house of clay 
Will with fearful ruin on me lie, 

Quenching me in my self-kindled ray ! 

Weepest thou, Laura ? — Be that tear denied 
Which as Age's penance is supplied ! 

Hence ! away ! thou tear, thou sinner mean ! 
Would'st thou, Laura, that my strength should 

sink?— 
That I trembling from that Sun should shrink 

Who the stripling's eagle-course hath seen ? 
That my bosom's heavenly flame so bright 

'Neath a frozen heart's cold touch should perish ? — 
That my Spirit should be reft of sight ? — 

Must I curse the Sins that most I cherish ? 

No ! away ! thou tear, thou sinner mean I 
Break the floweret in its fairest bloom ! 
Quench, O Youth, with that deep look of gloom, 

Quench with bitter tears my torch's ray I 
As when o'er the scene that most enthralls 



18 



9Hefefrratt f dH H ter fdjonften (Scene, 
5"Uet;n tie Sdjatren — iint nocb fcbrocigenb §ord)t 
bag £au2. — 



5te gdnbcsmkkmn. 

£or$ — tie ©lecfm ^atfert tttmpf jufammen, 

Unb ter 3 c ^ e ^ IJat ooflbradH ten 2owf. 
SJlun, fo fet'S t:nn ! — Sftun, in ®otte» Harnett 

©rabgefa^rten, brcd>t $utn 9fUdjtpIa£ auf. 
9itmm, o 21>elt! tie (e£ten 2lbfd)ietefuffe! 

5)iefc Jbranen nimm, o SOSelt, ncd) fyin! 
Seine ©tfte — o, fie fcbmccften fii§e! — 

SBir fmt quirt, tu £er3oergifterin! 

§ar)ret tocM, tbr ^reuten tiefer (Sonne, 

©egen fcbroaqen Rioter umgetaufcbtl 
^abre rcobf, tu OxoKn^eit ooll 23onne, 

£ie fo oft ba3 Mabcben Inftberaufcb,t! 
Oabret trobl, ibr geitg:toebten Iraume, 

^aratiefeefinter, ^bantafien ! 
2£eb! fie ftarfren fcbon im y D)iorgenfeime, 

Sioig nimmer an ta3 £icr)t 3U blii^it. 

Scbcn gefcbmiicft mit rofenrotben (ScBfeifen, 

Xecfte mtct) ter UnfcBult Scfyroanenfleib, 
3n ter blonten £ocfen Iofe3 Scbtreifen 

2£aren junge IRofen eingeftreut 
23ebe! — tie ©:cofcrre ber ^poCte 

(Scbmiicft nocb i£t fca$ to:t£(icbe (Btttarti; 
2Ibcr acb! — ter S^ofenfcMeifen Stetle 

9?al;m ein ftf?tt?ar3e3 Icttenbanb. 



18 

On the tragic stage, the curtain falls, 
Though each shadow flies, — the crowds all breath- 
less stay ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE INFANTICIDE. 

Hark where the bells toll, chiming, dull and steady, 

The clock's slow hand hath reached the hour de- 
creed. 
Well, be it so ! — Lead on — my soul is ready, 

Stern Grave -companions — to the Doomsman lead ! 
Now take, O world ! my last farewell — receiving 

My parting kisses — in these tears they dwell ! 
Sweet are thy poisons while we taste believing ; 

Now we are quits ! — heart-poisoner, fare thee well ! 

Farewell, ye suns that once to joy invited, 

Changed for the mold beneath the funeral shade, 
Farewell, farewell, thou rosy Time delighted, 

Luring to soft desire the careless maid. 
Pale gossamers of gold, farewell, sweet-dreaming 

Fancies — the children that an Eden bore ! 
Blossoms that died while Dawn itself was gleaming, 

Opening in happy sunlight nevermore. 

Swan-like the robe which Innocence, bestowing, 

Decked with the virgin favors, rosy fair, 
In the gay time when many a young rose glowing 

Blushed through the loose train of the amber hair. 
Woe, woe ! as white the robe that decks me now — 

The shroud-like robe Hell's destined victim wears , 
Still shall the fillet bind this burning brow — 

I'liat sable braid the Doomsman's hand prepares ! 



19 



SMnet urn mid), bte il)r nie cjefallen, 

T)tnm nod) ber tlnfcfyulb Siljcn bliilm, 
£)enen 311 bem tt>eid)en SSufcnwaCten 

£elbenftarfe bie S^atur tterlietyn! 
S3cbe! — ntenfdjlidj t)at fcieg £erg empfunben! 

Unb (Smpftnbung, [oil mein 9ttd)tfcfymert fein! 
2Bel)! t>om 31 rm be$ falfdjen SftannS umumnben, 

©djlief SuifettS Sugcub eim 

5Id), stelleidjt umflattert eitte Slnbre, 

Sftein ttergeprt, bief:g ©d)langenlj?r$, 
Ueberfltefjt, roenn id) gum ©rabe tt>anbre, 

2ln bem $u{3tifd) in serliebtem Scfyerg? 
©pielt sielleicfyt mit feineS 9Jiabd)ene' Socle, 

©d)lingt ben $u§, ben fie entgegmbungt, 
SBSenn, aerfpri&t auf biefem £obe£blocfe, 

£0$ mem Slut 00m ^tumpfe fpriugt. 

3ofep^! 3ofep^! auf entfernte 9JMlen 

goige btr 2uifen$ Xobtend)or, 
Unb be.ss (Sjiixfentfyurmes bumpfe3 Jpeulen 

©d)(age fctyrecfiid) mafynenb an bein Dfyr — 
SBenn son ernes' s Dcabcfyen3 n?eid)em Sftunbc 

SD'ir ber Siebe fan ft ©elifpel quill t, 
33ol)r' e3 plo^lid) einc ipollenwunbe 

3nber SBotluft 3tofenbilb! 

£a, Serrat^er! nicfyf Suifens (Sdjmer^en? 

97id)t be* SQBctbeS ©d)anbe, fyarter 9ftann? ■ 
9cid)t bas ^nablcin unter metnem ^ergen? 

9itd)t way Soft' unb Xiger fcfymelgcn faun? 
©einc ©cgel fliegen ftolj »om SanbeJ 

s D?eine 2lugeu jittern bunfel nad)j 



19 

Weep ye, who never fell — for whom, unerring, 

The soul's white lilies keep their virgin hue, 
Ye who, when thoughts so danger-sweet are stirring, 

Take the stern strength that Nature gives the few ! 
Woe, for too human was this fond heart's feeling — 

Feeling ! — my sin's avenger doomed to be ; 
Woe — for the false man's arm, around me stealing, 

Stole the lulled Virtue, charmed to sleep, from me. 

Ah, he perhaps shall, round another sighing, 

Of me forgetful, sting some tender breast — 
Gayly, when I in the dumb grave am lying, 

Pour the warm wish, or speed the wanton jest ; 
Or play, perchance, with his new maiden's tresses, 

Answer the kiss her lip enamored brings, 
When the dread block the head he cradled presses, 

And high the blood his kiss once fevered springs. 

Thee, Francis, Francis,* league on league, shall follow 

The death-dirge of the Lucy once so dear ; 
From yonder steeple, dismal, dull, and hollow, 

Shall knell the warning horror on thy ear. 
On thy fresh leman's lips when Love is dawning, 

And the lisped music glides from that sweet well — 
Lo, in that breast a red wound shall be yawning, 

And, in the midst of rapture, warn of hell ! 

Betrayer, what ! thy soul relentless closing 
To grief— the woman-shame no art can heal — 

To that small life beneath my heart reposing I 
Man, man, the wild beast for its young can feel I 

Proud flew the sails— receding from the land, 
I watched them waning from the wistful eye ; 



* Joseph, in the original. 



20 



Urn tic 9Jiat$?n an ber ©cine ©tranbe 
SSBinfelt cr feirt falfcfycs 5lcf> ! 

tfnb bag Emblem — in ber Gutter ©djojje 

Sag e3 ba in fitger, goibner Sftuty, 
3n bem fRtii ber jungen SSftorgenrofe 

%a$te mir ber fyolbe $(eine 3U — 
£obtIid)lieBHtf) fprad> au$ alien 3#gen 

©ein gefiebteS tfyenre* S3itb mid) an, 
2)en kflommnen 50cntterBufen nnegen 

Sicbc nnb — SSerjroeiflungSroatym 

SBeiB, tt>o ift mein SSater? latltc 

(Seiner Unfdmtb fromme Donnerfprac^; 
SSeiB, n?o ift bein ©atte? ^atlte 

3eber SBinfel meine£ ^erjeng nac^ — 
SBetj 1 nmfonft mirft, SBaife, bn tfjn fn#en, 

£er sietteid)t fd)on anbre Winter fyer^t, 
SBirft ber ©tunbe unfers ©liide* flucfyen, 

SSenn bid) einft ber Sftame 23aftarb fdjft>ar$r« 

£)eine Gutter — o, im 33ufen £6fte! 

(Sinfam ftj?t fte in bem 2til ber 2Mt, 
Dnrftet cn?ig an ber greubenqnetle, 

Die bein 2InBlid fiirdjterlid) sergafft 
3ld), mit jebem Saut i>on bir er!Iingen 

©cfymerggefiifyie beS sergangnen (SHiidfe, 
Unb be<3 £obe3 bittre §>fetfe bringen 

2lu» bem S-adjetn betne3 ^mberfclidfe. 

•Spotle, Jpottc, too id) bid) sermiffe, 
Jpoile, voo mein Singe bid) erblitftl 

(Sumenibenrutben beine $iiffe, 
Die son feincn Sippen midj entjiidU 



20 

Kound the gay maids on Seine's voluptuous strand, 
Breathes the false incense of his fatal sigh. 

And there the Babe ! there, on the mother's bosom, 

Lulled in its sweet and golden rest it lay, 
Fresh in life's morning as a rosy blossom, 

It smiled, poor harmless one, my tears away. 
Deathlike yet lovety, every feature speaking 

In such dear calm and beauty to my sadness. 
And my heart cradled, — cradled still, in breaking, 

The softening love and the despairing madness. 

"Woman, where is my father?" — freezing through 
me, 

Lisped the mute Innocence with thunder-sound ; 
"Woman, where is thy husband ?" — called unto me, 

Mine own stern heart, from out its deeps profound. 
Alas, for thee there is no father's kiss ! — 

He fondleth other children on his knee. 
How thou wilt curse our momentary bliss, 

When Bastard on thy name shall branded be ! 

Thy mother — oh, a hell her heart concealeth, 

Lone-sitting, lone in social Nature's All ! 
Thirsting for that glad fount thy love revealeth, 

While still thy look the glad fount turns to gall. 
In every infant cry my soul is heark'ning 

The haunting happiness forever o'er, 
And all the bitterness of death is dark'ning 

The heavenly looks that smiled mine eyes before. 

Hell, if my sight those looks a moment misses — 
Hell, when my sight upon those looks is turned — 

The furies now avenge in thy pure kisses, 
That slept in his what time my lips they burned. 



21 



©erne (Site b'onnern auS bem ©raBe wteber, 
Swig, ewig witrgt fein 9fteineib fort, 

(Swig — f)ier umftricfte mid) bte ippber — 
Unb sollenbet war ber SSftorb. 

Sofep^! Sofe^! auf entfernte 9ftetfen 

3age bir ber grimme <Ed)atten nacfy, 
Stfog' mit f alien SIrmen bicfy ereilen, 

2)onnre bid) au$ SConnetraumen wac^; 
3m ©efiimmer fanfter ©terne gucfe 

£)ir beg JvinbeS graffer ©terbebltcf, 
S3 begegne bir im blufgen ©cfymucfe, 

©eiple bid) *>om 3)arabie3 gurucf. 

(Seljt! ba lag's entfeeft $u meinen Sufen, -3- 

&alt, fyinftarrenb, mit tterworrnem ©inn 
<Bal) id) femes* S3 luted <Strome fltejjen, 

Unb mein £eben fiojj mit iljm bafyin; — 
©d)rediid) poc^t fd)on beS ©erid)te$ 23ote, 

©cfyredticber mein ^erjl 
^reubig eilt 1 td), in bem fatten £obe 

2IuS3ulofc^en meinen gtammenfd)mer$. 

3ofep$ ! ©ott tm £>immet fann serpen, 

£)tr uerjei^t bie ©unberuu 
Meinen ©rod will idj ber Srbe weitjen, 

©d)(age, glamme, burd) ben Jpolgftog l)inl 
©litd(td)! gtiid(td)! (Seine 23riefe fobern, 

(Seine (Eibe frigt ein fiegenb Sien'r, 
(Seine duffel wie fie I)od) awflofcern! — 

2Ba3 auf Srben war mir einft fo tfyeu'r? 

Srauet nid)t ben Stofen eurer 3ngenb, 
Srauet, (Sd)weftent, 9)iannerfd)wuren nte! 



21 

Out from their graves his oaths spoke back in thunder ! 

The perjury stalked like murder in the sun — 
Forever — God ! — sense, reason, soul, sunk under — 

The deed was done 1 

Francis, O Francis ! let the spectre chase thee — 

Fly league on league upon thy hurrying flight — 
In the dread clasp of icy arms embrace thee, 

And mutter thunder in thy dream's delight ! 
Down from the soft stars, in their tranquil glory, 

Let thy dead infant look with ghastly stare ; 
Let the shape haunt thee in its cerements gory, 

And scourge thee back from heaven — its home is 
there ! 

Lifeless — how lifeless ! — see, oh see, before me 

It lies cold — stiff! — O God ! — and with that blood 
I feel, as swoops the dizzy darkness o'er me, 

Mine own life mingled — ebbing in the flood. 
Hark, at the door they knock — more loud within me — 

More awful still — its sound the dread heart gave ! 
Gladly I welcome the cold arms that win me — 

Fire, quench thy tortures in the icy grave ! 

Francis — a God that pardons dwells in heaven — 

Francis, the sinner — yes — she pardons thee — 
So let my wrongs unto the earth be given : 

Flame, seize the wood ! — it burns — it kindles — see ! 
There — there his letters cast — behold are ashes ! — 

His vows — the conquering fire consumes them here : 
His kisses — see— see all are only ashes — 

All, all — the all that once on earth were dear ! 

Trust not the roses which your youth enjoyeth, 
Sisters, to man's faith, changeful as the moon ! 
10 



22 



<Sd)on£)eit &><** ^e ftattt memer Sttgenb, 
2Iuf ber 9tid)tjktt fjier serflud) 1 id) fie! — 

3a^ren? 3 a ^ren in bes SMrgerS 23Iiden? 
©cfynefl tie Stnbe urn mem 2Jngeftd)tl 

pettier, fannft bu feme Siljc fniden? 
23leid)er £en£er, gittre nidjt! 



5>ie ^>roge ber gSefi. 

2)ie ber fdjaffenbe ®etjt eutft au$ bem (TfjaoS fdtfu^, 
£>urd) bie fdmiebenbe SBelt flicg' id) be3 ©inbee glug, 

23i3 am ©tranbe 

3§rer $3ogen idj lanbe, 
Sinter t»erf\ wo fein ipaud) mef)r tt>e(jr, 
Unb ber Sftarfjlein ber ©d)o>fung ftefyt. 

©terne fat) 1 idj B?reit3 jugenblid) auferfte^n, 
Staufenbjafjrigen ®ang$ burd)3 firmament 3U ge^rt, 

<5a§ fie fptelen 

Sftadj ben lodenben 3^ en 5 
3rrenb fucfyte mem 23lief itmtjer, 
<Safy bie SRaume fdjon — fternenleer. 

Smmfeuern ben $mg tueiter mm Steidj beg 911$ t$, 
©teur' id) tnitti&tger fort, net)me ben gtug be$ SicfyrS, 

fteMidbt triikr 

#tmmel an mtr ttoriiBer, 
SMtfpjteme, gluten im Sad), 
©trubeln bem ©onnettftanbrer nad^ 

(Sietj, ben einfamen $fab tr-anbelt em $tTger mtr 
Sftafd) entgegen — „fyalt anl SSatter, was fudjft bit 

„„3um ®eftabe [f)ier?" 

©emer S3eU meine $fabel 



22 

Beauty to me brought guilt — its bloom destroyeth : 

Lo, in the Place of Death I curse the boon : 
Tears in the headsman's gaze — what tears ? — 'tis 
spoken ! 
Quick, bind mine eyes — all soon shall be forgot — 
Doomsman — the lily hast thou never broken ? 
Pale Doomsman — tremble not ! 

Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. 



THE VASTKESS OF CBEATIOK 
Amidst revolving worlds, which the creative mind 
Erst out of chaos struck, I fly on wings of wind, 

Seeking to land 

On the billows' strand — 
Cast anchor where stirs no breath vibration, 
Where stands the bound-stone of creation. 
And stars I there beheld, radiant in youth, arise, 
Their fixed millennial course to travel thro' the skies ; 

Saw them sportive roll 

To the beckoning goal — 
Then cast a wandering glance around me, 
And already in starless space I found me. 
More wide *into the realm of thought to urge my 

flight, 
I steer right boldly on, and take the wings of light. 

With dim clouds o'ercast 

Is the heaven I've past : 
Wave after wave, world-systems gushing, 
On my sun-dazzled sense come rushing. 
And lo ! athwart my path, along the lonesome way, 
A pilgrim hastens. " Halt I what seek'st thou, trav- 
eller, say!" 
"To the furthest shore 

Of this ocean hoar 



* See note c. 



23 



(SegTe t)tn, »o fetn $au& metjr foetst, 
Unt) ber Sftarfftem ber ed)i>pfung fte[)t!"" 

„©tet)! bu fegeljl umfonft — oor Mr Unenbltcbfett !" 
„„<Stel) i tm fegelji umfonft — §)tlger and) Winter mir! 

(Benfe nteber, 

Siblergebanf, beta ©efteber! 
^ufrne (gegtcrin, $ftantajte, 
2Btrf ein mutljlcfes 2Infer t)ie."" 



cHegie <mf ben ^06 ehtes gihtgfhtg^ 

Sanger ©tofynen, ftue sorrn nafjen ©turme, 

pallet Ijer som iJben XrauerfyauS, 
Xobtentone fatten son be» 9)tunfter3 Sfyurme!. 

©men 3«^9^ n 9 tragt ma ^ ^ er f)erau<?, 
Sinen Singling — ' rt0 ^ »W rcif gum @arge, 

3n be* ScfeenS 9ft at gepfludt, 
$ocftenb mit ber 3ugenb 9ler»enmarfe, 

Spfjit ber gtamme, bte im 5Iuge ^ucft — 
Sinen (Sofyn, bte SBonne feiner Gutter 

(O ba^ tefyrt tf)r jammernb 21$) 
SDMnen Sufenfreunb, ac^! metnen 23ruber — 

SXuf, n?a0 s D?enf$ tyeijjt, folge nac^I 

«PraMt ttjr, S'^ten, bte vfjr §0$, tteraTter, 
©tiirmcn ftefyet unb ben Donner ntdt? 

Unb tbr 23erge, bie i$r £immel fyafter, 
Unb ibr £imme(, bte i()r (Sonncn fcegt: 

5>rabtt ber ©retc noc&, ber auf jtotjen 3S?rfett 
2Bie auf SBogen $ur sBolieubung fietgt? 

* £er Sfiame t>e3 Suitings scar S^amt GOrifltan 2Becf fyerliiu 



23 

I sail, where stirs no breath vibration, 
Where stands the bound-stone of creation.'' 

" Thou sail'st in vain. Before thee lies Infinity." 
"Thou too — Behind me, Pilgrim, spreads unbounded 
sea." 
Thought, eagle-pinioned, stoop 
Thy wings that flag and droop ! 
Fancy ! — thou daring sailor ! — here, at last, 
Here, thy desponding anchor cast ! 

John Herman Merivdle, Esq., F.S.A. 



ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG MAN * 

Mournful groans, as when a Tempest lours, 

Echo from the dreary house of Woe ; 
Death-notes rise from yonder Minster's towers ! 

Bearing out a youth, they slowly go ; 
Yes ! a youth — unripe yet for the Bier, 

Gathered in the spring-time of his days, 
Thrilling yet with pulses strong and clear, 

With the flame that in his bright eye plays — 
Yes ! a Son — the Idol of his Mother, 

(Oh, her mournful sigh shows that too well !) 
Yes ! my Bosom-friend, — alas, ray Brother ! — 

Up ! each Man, the sad Procession swell ! 

Do ye boast, ye Pines, so gray and old, 

Storms to brave, with thunderbolts to sport ? 

And, ye Hills, that ye the Heavens uphold ? 

And, ye Heavens, that ye the Suns support ? 

Boasts the graybeard, who on haughty Deeds 
As on billows, seeks Perfection's height ? 



The young man's name was Johann Christian Weckherlin. 



24 



*PraJ>Itber£rTb nocb, berauf aufgei-oa^hmSbatenbergett 
3n teg *ftad>rut)ma ©onnentempel fteugt? 

SBenn ber SSurm fdjon naget in ben SBlutfccn, 
26er ifl £bor, gu mabnen, ba§ er meserbirbt? 

2Ber bort oben tyojfr nod) unb fytenieben 
Stu^ubauew — mnn ber 3ungling ftirbt? 

£iebti$ fmpften, »otI ber 3ugenbfreube, 
(Seine £age bin im Sftofenfleibe, 

Unb bie Sfcelt, bie SBelt mar Ojm fo fug — 
Unb fo freunblid), fo begaub.rnb minfte 
3t)m bie 3 "fun ft, unb fo golben blinfte 

3t)m beg Seben^ ^arabteg; 
9todj, aU fcbon bag SKufteraitge tljrante, 
II liter tfjm bag SEofctenttidj fcbon gcifynte, 

Ueber tfjm ber ^argen $aben rig, 
Srb' unb pummel feinem Slid entfanfen, 
glob er angftltcfy oor bent ©rabgebanfen — , 

Sid), bie SMt ift ©terbenben fo fug! 

(Stumm unb taub tjt'3 in bent engen £aufe, 

STtef ber ©glummer ber S3egrabenen; 
SSruber! ad), in emig tiefer $aufe 

gctern alle betne Jpojfitungen; 
pft crnjartnt bie (&Qnne beinen £ugel, 

3fyre (3iutl) entpftnbcft bu ntd)t mebr, 
Seine SSIumen ttnegt beg 2B ftminbg ^lugel, 

©etn ©elifpel boreft bu ntdjt mefyrj 
Siebe rcirb bein Singe nie tiergofben, 

9}te umfyalfen betne 23raut rctrft bu, 
9Me, rcenn unfre SbraVn ftromroeig rollten, — 

Swig, ewig jtnft bein Singe 3m 



24 



Boasts the Hero, whom his prowess leads 
Up to future Glory's Temple bright ? 

If the gnawing worms the floweret blast, 
Who can madly think he'll ne'er decay ? 

Who above, below, can hope to last, 
If the young man's life thus fleets away ? 



Joyously his days of youth so glad 
Danced along, in rosy garb beclad, 

And the world, the world was then so sweet ! 
And how kindly, how enchantingly 
Smiled the Future, — with what golden eye 

Did Life's Paradise his moments greet I 
While the tear his Mother's eye escaped, 
Under him the Realm of Shadows gaped, 

And the Fates his thread began to sever, — 
Earth and Heaven then vanished from his sight, 
From the Grave-Thought shrunk he in affright — - 

Sweet the World is to the Dying ever ! 

Dumb and deaf 'tis in that narrow place, 

Deep the Slumbers of the Buried One ! 
Brother ! Ah, in ever-slackening race 

All thy hopes their circuit cease to run I 
Sunbeams oft thy native hill still lave, 

But their glow thou nevermore canst feel ; 
O'er its flowers the Zephyr's pinions wave, 

O'er thine ear its murmur ne'er can steal ; 
Love will never tinge thine eye with gold, 

Ne'er wilt thou embrace thy blooming bride, 
Not e'en though our tears in torrents rolled — 

Death must now thine eye forever hide ! 



25 

2l6er ttotjT bir! — fofiltd) tit betn ©drummer, 

3Rul)tg fcfylcift ftd) v ^ in b:m engen £au3; 
Sftit ber greube fttrbt fyter aud) ber Summer, 

SRocfyeln and) ber 9)?enfd)en Quaten au3* 
Ueber bir mag bte SBerleumbung gei'fern, 

2)te SSerfit^rung ifyre ®iftc fpet'n, 
Ueber bid) ber $)f)arifaer effort, 

gromme SDZorbfucfyt bid) ber ipoffe roei^n, 
©auner burd) 2tyojW*9ftasfen fcfyteten, 

llnb bte 23afhrbtod)ter ber ®ered)tigfeit, 
2Bie nut SBiirfeln, fo mit SDfonfdjen fpielen, 

Unb fo fort, bis f)in $ur Sicigfeit. 

Ueber bir mag and) gortuna gauMn, 

23tinb fyerunt nad) ifyren Sullen fpa^n, 
5ften[tben balb auf fdjicanfen Sfyronen fcfyaufeln, 

23aib fyerum in tviiften g>fii&cn brefyn; 
SBojjI bir, tobtyl in beiner fcfymalen 3^1 

SMefem fomtfd)traa,ifd)m ©enmtjt, 
£>iefer ungeftitmen ®iude£ir>e(le, 

£iefem pojjenfyaften Sotrofpiel, 
Dti-fem faulen flei^igen ®erotmmer, 

5)icfer arbeitSsolIen Sftufy' 
23ruber! — biefem teuf:(ooflen £immet 

(Sdjlojj bein Sluge fid) anf eroig gu* 

gafjr benn roof)!, bu £rauter unfrer <Seete, 
Singeroiegt oon nnfern (Segnungen! 

(5d)lummre ruf)ig in ber @)rabe$§6§Ie, 
<Sd)liimmre rufyig bis auf SSteberfefynJ 

Sic auf biefjn leid>en»oflen £iigeln 
!£)ie a(lmad)hge $>ofaune fihigt, 

Unb uacr; aufgenffnen Sobesriegdn 



25 

Yet 'tis well ! — for precious is thy Eest, 

In that narrow house the Sleep is calm ;, 
There, with Rapture, Sorrow leaves the breast,- 

Man's afflictions there no longer harm. 
Slander now may wildly rave o'er thee, 

And Temptation vomit Poison fell, 
O'er thee wrangle on the Pharisee, 

Murderous Bigots banish thee to Hell ! 
Rogues beneath Apostle-masks may leer, 

And the bastard child of Justice play, 
As it were with dice, with mankind here, 

And so on, until the Judgment Day ! 



O'er thee Fortune still may juggle on, 

For her minions blindly look around, — 
Man now totter on his staggering throne, 

And in dreary puddles now be found I 
Blest art thou, within thy narrow cell ! 

To this stir of tragi-comedy, 
To these fortune-waves that madly swell, 

To this vain and childish lottery, 
To this busy crowd effecting naught, 

To this rest with labor teeming o'er, 
Brother I — to this Heaven with Devils fraught, 

Now thine eyes have closed forevermore. 



Fare thee well, oh, thou to memory dear, 
By our blessings lulled to slumbers sweet ! 

Sleep on calmly in thy prison drear, — 
Sleep on calmly till again we meet ! 

Till the loud Almighty trumpet sounds, 
Echoing through these corpse-encumbered hills, — 

Till God's storm-wind, bursting through the bounds 



26 



©otteS ©turmaunb biefe 2ei$en in Seroegung 

fdjroingt — 
33i3, fcefrudjtet son 3eijosaf)3 ipaucb/e, 

©rdber fretgen — auf fein mad)tig £)raVn 
3« gerfcfyme^enber ^(aneten 9tanc6e 

S^ren cftaub bie ©riifte nueberfau'n — 

9ft$t in SGetten, trie bte SBeifen traumen, 

Stuc^ nic^t in beS spb'bete $arabie3, 
9Wd»t in ipimmeln, toie Me SMdjter retmen, — 

Slber »tr ereilen bid) genn§. 
£)ag e* »a$r fei, n?a3 ten $iiger freute? 

£>ag noa) jenfettd ein ©ebanfe fei ? 
£)a§ t)ie Xugenb libera ©rab gelette ? 

£)ag e3 mefyr t?enn ettle 3tyantafei? 

(&d)Qii entt)ulit [tnb bir bte fR'dt^d alle! 

&3al)rfyeit (d)lurft bein fyodjentgudter ©eift, 
SBafyrtyeit, bie in taufenbfacfyem ©trafyte 

SBon bee groj^tt latere $etdje fleugt. — 

3ie^t benn Ijht, i§r fcfymargen, ftummen Jrager: 

£i|cc;t aua) ben bem grojjen 2Biirger auf! 
£bret an], get)eulergoffne stager! 

Ztyuvmtt auf it>m ©taub auf otaub gu -ipauf! 
2So ber Sftenfct), ber ©ottes jftatfcfrijlujj pruftel 

2Bo bas 2lug', ben 2(bgrunb burri)$u[d)aun? 
£etltg, fyetltg, t;eiiig bift bu^, ©ott ber (Shufte! 
v 2£>ir oerefyren bid? mit ©raun! 
©rbe mag ^uriicf in Srbe ftduben, 

gltegt ber ©eift bod) and bem morfcfyen £au$! 
©erne ^Ifdje mag ber ©turmnunb treiDen, 

©eine \Hebe bauert eroig au3» 



28 

Placed by Death, with Life those corpses fills — 
Till, impregnate with Jehovah's blast, 

Graves bring forth, and at His menace dread, 
In the smoke of Planets melting fast, 

Once again the tombs give up their Dead ! 

Not in "Worlds, as dreamt of by the Wise, 

Not in Heavens, as sung in Poets' song, 
Not in e'en the People's Paradise — 

Yet we shall o'ertake thee, and ere long. 
Is that true which cheered the Pilgrim's gloom ? 

Is it true that Thoughts can yonder be f 
True, that Virtue guides us o'er the tomb ? 

That 'tis more than empty Phantasy ? 
All these riddles are to thee unveiled ! 

Truth thy Soul ecstatic now drinks up, 
Truth in radiance thousandfold exhaled 

From the Mighty Father's blissful cup. 

Dark and silent Bearers, draw, then, nigh ! 

To the Slayer serve the Feast the while ! 
Cease, ye Mourners, cease your wailing cry ! 

Dust on dust upon the body pile ! 
Where's the Man who God to tempt presumes ? 

Where the eye that through the Gulf can see ? 
Holy, holy, holy art thou, God of Tombs ! 

We, with awful trembling, worship Thee ! 
Dust may back to native dust be ground, 

From its crumbling house the Spirit fly, 
And the storm its ashes strew around,— 

But its Love, its Love shall never die ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring, 



27 



pie §cf}fctcfjf. 

ScBroer unb bnmpftg, 
Sine SBettermolfe, 

£>ur$ bte grime Sbne fcbir-anft ber SSftarjc^ 
3um wilten eifernen SBurfelfpiel 

Strerft |td unabfefylid) t>ae ©eftibe. 
55lide fried)en nieterioart», 

2ln tie £Ripven pod)t ba3 9ftanner$er$, 
23eruber art tyoblen Jebtenge fid) tern 

Sftieberjagt tie grent ber Sftajor: 
jpalt! 

Unb iRegimenter fejfett ba§ ftarre Sommanbo. 

Sautlcc ftefyt tie grent. 

§)ra<j^tig im g(ii!)enben 9Jc"orgenrot§ 

3Ba3 bli£t tort ber »ora (£ebirge? 

<Set)t ityr bes geinbee -galmen adjn? 

SBir fel)n be* geinfceS -gabnen rcebn, 

©ott mit end), SSetb unb Winter ! 

Suftig! bert ifyr ben (Mang? 

trommel toirbel, 3)fetfenflang 

(3d)mettert buret) bie ©lieber; 

SBie brait^t e3 fort im fdjonen, trilben IXactl 

Unb brauwt burd) ffiaxt imb 53ein. 

©pit bcfoblen, ^riiter ! 

3u einer anbern SBelt irieter! 

Scbon fleugt e3 fort rate 2£erterfeitd)t, 
£umpf bruttt bet Xenner fd)on bort, 
£ie Simper 311 eft, fyter frad>t er (aur, 
•Die Sefung brauwt sen £eer gu £eer — 



27 



THE BATTLE. 

Heavy and solemn, 

A cloudy column, 
Through the green plain they marching came I 

Measureless spread, 

Is that table dread, 
For the wild grim dice of the iron game. 
Shrinkingly down bend the looks to the ground, 
And the heart beats loud with a knelling sound ; 
Pale is the face of the stoutest man 
As the Major spurs fast by the ranks to the van. 

"Halt!" 
And fettered they stand at the stark command. 

Silently halts the van ! 

Proud in the blush of morning glowing, 
What on the hill-top shines in flowing ? 
" See you the Foeman's banners waving ? " 
" We see the Foeman's banners waving ! " 
" God be with ye — children and wife ! " 
Hark to the music — the drum and the fife, 
How they ring through the ranks which they rouse to 

the strife ! 
Thrilling they sound with their glorious tone, 
Thrilling they go through the marrow and bone I 
Brothers, God grant when this life be o'er, 
In the life to come that we meet once more I 

See the smoke how the lightning is cleaving asunder ! 
Hark the guns, peal on peal, how they boom in their 

thunder 1 
Quivers the eyelid, as round and round, 
From rank to rank, flies the signal sound ; 



28 

Sag Braufsit tit ©otteg Warnm fort, 
greier fdjon atfymet bie 23rnft 

£)er 3:ob ifi log — fc^on iuogt ftdj ber $amj>f, 
(gtfen tm tr-olftgten $nl*erbampf, 
(Sifem fallen bie UBiirfeU 

9?alj nmarmen bte £eere ftdj ; 

$ertt$! tjeult'g son $'Ioton 3U $Toton; 

2luf bte $mee gemorfen 

^euern bte 33orbern, stele fteljen nid)t mef)r anf, 

£ttden reif t bte ftreifenbe ,ftartatfd)e, 

2Iuf SSormamtg 3^umpfe fpringt ber ipinrermann, 

23ernmftnng red)tg unb linH imb urn urtb urn, 

Sataillone niebertoaljt ber Job. 

2Me (Sonne Iofdjt ang, l)et£} Brenttt bte ©djtadjr, 
(g^warg brittet auf bent ipeer bie 9laci;t — . 
®ott Befo^Ien, Sritber! 
3n einer cmbertt SBelt toieber! 

£0$ fprt£t an bett 5^acfett bag 23lnr, 

gebenbe wecbfettt mit Sobten, ber gng 

©traudjett itber ben Setdjnamen — 

„Unb aufy bn, grana?" — „„®ritfje mem Sottdjen, 

grennb I" " 
SMlber tntmer ttmrljet ber ©treit; 
„®rit§en mill id)" — ®ott! ^ameraben, fe^tl 
Winter nng me bte ^artatfd^e fprtngt! — 
„@rit$en mill id) bein Sottcfyen, ^rennbl 
„©d)lnmntre fan ft! mo bte ^ngelfaat 
„$eanet, ftiir^ id) ©erlaffner fyinein." 

.Jptetjer, bortljin fd)manft bte @djlad)t» 
ginftrer brittet anf bent ipeer bte dlafyt — 



28 

Shout it forth— shout it forth — to the life or the death ! 
Freer already breathes the breath ! 

Death has broke loose, and the strife is begun, 
More fast through the smoke comes the flash of the 

gun; 
More fast through the vapor, that hangs like a pall, 

Do the iron dice fall. 

Nearer they close — foes upon foes. 
"Keady !" — from square to square it goes, 

Down on the knee they sank, 
And the fire comes sharp from the foremost rank. 
Many a man to the earth it sent, 
Many a gap by the balls is rent — 
O'er the corpse before springs the hinder-man, 
That the line may not fail to the fearless van. 
To the right, to the left, and wherever ye gaze, 
Goes the Dance of Death in its whirling maze, 
God's sunlight is quenched in the fiery fight, 
Over the host falls a brooding Night ! 
Brothers, God grant when this life be o'er. 
In the life to come that we meet once more ! 

' The dead men lie bathed in the weltering blood, 
And the living are blent in the slippery flood, 
And the feet, as they reeling and sliding go, 
Stumble still on the corpses that sleep below. 
4 'What, Francis I" u Give Charlotte my last fare- 
well." 
As the dying man murmurs, the thunders swell — 
"I'll give — O God ! are their guns so near ? 
Ho ! comrades ! — yon volley ! — look sharp to the rear ! 
I'll give thy Charlotte thy last farewell, 
Sleep soft ! where Death thickest descendeth in rain, 
The friend thou forsakest thy side shall regain !" 
Hitherward — thitherward reels the fight, 
And broods o'er the battle yet darker the night. 



29 

©ott tefo^Ten, ©ruber! 

3u einer anbern SSelt nneber! 

£ordj! teas jtrampft im ©atopp sorbei? 

SMe 2ltjutanten fliegen, 
£)ragoner raffeln in ben geinb, 

Unb feme Conner rufyen. 
Victoria, Suiter! 

@d)recfen rei§t tie feigen ©tieber, 

Unb feinc %a§nt jinft — 

Sntfcbteben ifi fete fcBarfc ©<J)Iadjt, 

£er Xag bttcft ftegent> burd) tie 9cadjt! 
£ordj! StremmelratrBel, ^feifcnflang 
©timmen fd>on Sriumpbgcfang ! 
Sebt woljl, ibr gebltebenen fritter I 
3n einer ant-em 23elt nneber I 



'gtoujfeau. 

Monument yen nnfrer 3^ten (Sdjanbe, 
©n? 1 ge @d)macfofd)rift beiner 9)cutterlanbe, 

S^oujfeau^ ©rab, gegrit^et fetjl bu mtr ! 
^rieb' unb 9ml) ben Xriimmern betneS SebenSl 
§rtcb' unb Sftube (ucbteft 1:u sergebenS, 

^rieb 1 unb Sftufye fantft bu §ier! 

2£ann nurb bo$ bte aire SBunbe narben ? 
ginjl n?ar'8 ftnfter, unb bte SSetfen ftarben! 

9hm t|Vs lifter, unb ber SBeife fttrbt 
(Sofrate* ging unter turd) (Sepfyijren, 
Sftoujjeau letter, Otouffean fa (It buret) (Xfyriften, 

0toujfeau — ber au3 (Sfcrijlen SJcenfdjen wirfct 



29 

Brothers, God grant when this life be o'er, 
In the life to come that we meet once more I 

Hark to the hoofs that galloping go ! 

The Adjutants flying, — 
The horsemen press hard on the panting foe, 
Their thunder booms in dying — 
Victory ! 
The terror has seized on the dastards all, 
And their colors fall ! 
Victory ! 
Closed is the bitter but glorious fight : 
And the clay, like a conqueror, bursts on the night. 
Hark to the music — the drum and the fife, 
How they ring with the triumph that follows the 

strife ! 
Farewell, fallen brothers, though this life be o'er, 
There^s another, in which we shall meet you once more I 
Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. 



KOUSSEAU. 
Monumental scandal of our time I 
Blot eternal on thy parent clime ! 

Rousseau's grave ! — receive a votary's tear — 
Peace and Rest may with thy bones remain. 
Peace and Rest thou, living, sought 'st in vain. 

Peace and Rest await thee here. 

Will this bleeding fountain ne'er be dried ? 
Once 'twas darkness all, and sages died — 

Now 'tis light— yet dies the sage again. 
Socrates was doomed by sophist bands. 
Rousseau's fate was sealed by Christian hands— 

Rousseau — who, of Christians, made us men. 
John Herman Merivale, Esq., F. S. A. 



30 



pie gtremrifdjaff. 

8tu3 ben Srtefen SuIhtS 1 on Sftap^aet, einem nod) ungebrudten SKoman. 

$rennb! genitgfam tfi ber SOefenienfer — 
©dbamen ffd) fleinmeijhrtfdje £)enfer, 

3Die fo angft(td) nac£) ©efe£en fpafyn — 
©eiftemid) urtb jtorperroeltgeroiifjle 
SBafgct eineS cRabeS 8d)ttmng jum 3^ e 5 

£ier fafj eg mem Newton ge^tu 

(2pt)aren lebrt eg, ©ffasen eineg 3atLmt&, 
Urn bag iperj beg grojjen SMtenraumeg 

Sabprintfyenbafynen gtefyn — 
©eifter in nmarmenben (Spjtemert 
Sftad) ber gto § en ©etfterfonne fitomen, 

S3ie mm 9Jieete 25ad)e flie^rt* 

SBar'g ntd)t bieg atlmad)ttge ©etriebe, 
SDag 3um ero'gen 3ubelbunb ber Siebe 

U n fr e iper^en aneinanber gmang? 
SRapbael, an beitiem 5lrm — o $3onne! 
2Bag' au§ id) mr gro§en ©cifterpnne 

grenbtgmutfyig ben ^otienbnngggang. 

©titdlid)! gIMtid), bid) {jaB 1 id) gefnnben, 
£ab' ang SJMUionen bid) nmmnnben, 

Unt> ang ^Mionen m ein bift bu — 
£a§ ba^ (Sfyaog btefe SGclt umrittteln, 
2)nvd)einanber bte 2(tomen fcfjutteln ; 

(Sang fiiebn fid) nnfre iper^en $n. 

9ftnf id) nid)t ang beinen gfammenangen 
Reiner 2Bot(u|1 2BiberftraI)(en faugen? 
Sftur in bir beftann' icfy mid) — 



30 



FRIENDSHIP. 

From the " Letters of Julius to Raphael :" an unpublished Eomance. 

Temperate is the Being-Ruler, Friend ! — 
On those Thinkers mean let Shame attend 

Who so anxiously seek Laws to solve ! 
Living-Worlds, and Regions of the Soul 
On one Fly-wheel, toward their limit roll ; 

Here my Newton saw that Wheel revolve ! 

Spheres, — the slaves of but one rein,— it tells 
Round the mighty World's heart, as it swells, 

Labyrinthine paths to cause to rise — 
Spirits, in entwining Systems laced, 
Toward the mighty Spirit-Sun to haste, 

As the stream to join the ocean flies. 

Was't not this Machinery divine, 
That compelled our bosoms to entwine 

In the blest and endless bonds of Love ? 
Raphael, on thine arm — oh, ecstasy ! 
Toward that mighty Spirit-Sun, e'en I 

On Perfection's path would gladly rove. 

Joy, oh, Joy ! Thou now art found by me ! 
I, of millions, have embraced but thee, 

And, of millions, mine art thou alone — 
Let this World in Chaos still be lost, 
Atoms in confusion wild be tossed, 

Into one our hearts for aye have flown ! 

Must not I, from out thy flaming gaze, 
Of my Rapture seek the answering rays ? 
'Tis in thee alone myself I view — 



31 



©djoiter ma r t ft 5 mir tie fdjoite drte, 
feller [piegelt in be3 yrcunts ©eberfce, 
S^eigenter ter £immel jtcr). 

(Ecfttrermutfy tinrft tie frangert SrjranenTaftert, 
©uget sen be3 Seitens" Sturm $u raften, 

3n ter Siebe 23ufen a6; 
Sucfct ntd>t felfcjl baS folternte (Ent^iicfen 
3n te^ §reunt>3 ceretren StraMenMicfen 

Ungetulttg ein rcetlitft'ges ©rab? 

©tunV im 1(11 ter Sdjopfung tdj atleine, 
©eelen traumt 1 id) in tie ^elfenfteine, 

Unt umarment fu§t td> fie — 
petite ^lagert fteent 1 icb in tie 2-iifte, 
greute mtcb, antreerteten tie &lufte f 

Jbcr genug! ter fit gen 3rmpatr)te» 

Sette ©rupeen ftnt rcir — reenn rcir r)aj7en, 
©otter — reenn irir Hebenb and umfajfenl 

Secr^en nad^ tern fu§en -^ejjeljreang — 
Sfufreart? turco tie taufentfacben Stafen 
3aMenlcf:r ©cifter, tie nicM fc&ufen, 

SBaltet gottlid) btefei £rartg. 

2lrm in 2trme, border frets' unt be^er, 

23em 9ftongolen big jum griedncbett Seb)er, 

£>et fid) an ten terpen Serapt) reirjt, 
SBaflen &>ir, einmuto'gen SUngeftanged, 
53iy ftcb tort im SWeet beg etr*gen ©laitgeg 

(gterbent untertaucben iJftajj unt 3eit — 

greimbloe 1 rear ter gro§e Seltenmetfter, 
giiblte 5J? a it g el — tarum febuf er ©eijkr, 
©eFge 3piegel feiner Seligfeit! 



31 

Fairer still appears the Earth so fair, 
Brighter in the Loved One's features there 
Heaven is mirrored, — of more dazzling hue. 

Sweeter from the Passion's storm to rest, 
Melancholy casts upon Love's breast 

All the burden of her tearful gloom ; 
Does not e'en tormenting Rapture seek, 
In thine eyes that eloquently speak, 

Eagerly to find a blissful tomb ? 

Stood I in Creation all alone, 

Spirits I would dream into each stone, 

And their forms with kisses then would greet,- 
When my wailings echoed far and wide, 
Would be happy, if the rocks replied, 

Fool, enough ! to Sympathy so sweet ! 

Lifeless groups are we, if hate we prove, 
Gods — if we embrace in kindly love ! 

While we languish for the fetters blest — 
Upwards through the thousand-varying scale 
Of unnumbered Souls that naught avail, 

Does this godlike impulse raise the breast. 

Arm in arm, tow'rd some still higher sphere, 
From the Mongol to the Grecian seer, 

Who is with the last of Seraphs bound, 
Roam we on, in dancing orbit bright, 
Till in yonder Sea of endless light 

Time and Measure evermore are drowned ! 

Friendless was the mighty Lord of Earth, 
Felt a Want — so gave the Spirit birth, 
Mirror blest where His own glories shine I — 



32 



ffanfc ba<3 $6d?fte SBefert fdjen fein ©letdjes, 
2lu* bem $etd) be3 garden (Seelenreid)e», 
©cfyaumt ifym — bie Unenbltcfyfeit, 



$ruppe ans bem %rfaru0. 

£>or$ — tine s XfturmeIn beS emporteit 9)?eere3, 
2Bie burd) fyofyier geffen 23eden meint em 23a-$, 

©toftnt bort bumpftgtief etn fdjroereS, leered, 
£)ualerprepte3 2ld)! 

@d)mer$ tterjerret 
3$r ©;ftdjt; SSeraroeiflung fperret 

3^rert £Rac^en flucfyenb auf» 
jpofyl jinb tfyre 2lugen, ifyre Slide 
©pafyen Bang nacfy be3 Soc^tu^ Q3riicfe, 

gotgen tfyraneitf) feinem STrauerlauf, 

$ragett jtdj etrtcmber angftltdj leife, 

Ob nod) rtic^t SSodenbung fei? — 
Srcigfeit fd)n?tna.t iiber ifyneit $retfe, 

23rid)t bie ©ertfe beg SaturnS ent3»ef. 



<^fi)fiitm. 

2$oru6er bie fiofjnenbe $(agel 
StyjtumS greuDenfiage 

Srfaufen ieglt^es 2ldj — 

(£l9jtums Seben 

Snnge SGonne, en?ige3 (Sdjmeben, 
£>urdj tacfyenbe gluren ein flotenber 25a$, 

3ugenbltd) milbe 
Sfcfcfcmebt bie ©eftlbe 
(Snnger S)iai; 



32 

Ne'er His Like has found that Being high, — 
Naught e'er gushes — save Infinity — ■ 
From the Spirit-Region's Cup Divine ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



GROUP FROM TARTARUS. 
HARK ! like murmurings of the troubled ocean — 
Like some brook, that weeps thro' beds of caverned 
stone — 
Thence is heard the sound of stifled, deep emotion — 
A low, pain-extorted moan. 

Anguish rending 
Every face — Despair extending 

Every throat with curses wide. 
Hollow are their eyes ; their looks explore, 
Strained in anxious dread, the Stygian shore, 

Tracing, tearful, its lugubrious tide. 

" Is not yet the cycle ended ?" — 
Whispers each to each in plaintive strain. 

O'er them swings Eternity suspended, 
And the scythe of Saturn breaks in twain. 

John Herman Merioale, Esq., F.S.A. 



ELYSIUM. 
Away with the moanings of sorrow! 
The feast of Elysium's morrow 

Shall drown every accent of woe. 
Life Elysian ! 

Endless bliss of floating vision, 
Through fair smiling meadows where silver streams 
flow. 
Spring-tide's mild morning, 
The landscape adorning, 
Gleams o'er the plain. 



33 



£)te ©hmbftt entflietjen tit golbenen Sraumen, 
Die <2eeie fcfcmiHt aug in unenblicfyen 3ftanmen, 
SBa^r^eit reigt X)ter ben ©cfyteier entjnpei 

Unenblidje greube 

Durdjiuattet bag £er$. 
£ter ntangelt ber ^ame bent trauernben Seibe; 
©anfter (Snrguden nnr fyeifet f)ier ©cfynterg. 

£ier ftrecfet ber mallenbe $tfger bie matten 
23rennenben ©lieber im fanfelnben Scfyatten, 

£eget bie 23ihbe auf enug bafyin — 
©cine (Sid)el entfattt fyier bent 6d)nitter, 
(Singefungen oon £arfen gentler, 

£rauntt er gefcfynittene Jpalme %u fe^n, 

Dejjen ^aftne Donnerftitrme tuoUte, 
Deflfen Cfyren 9JtorbgebriilI umfyatlte, 

23erge hMm unter beffen Donnergang, 
Sdjlafi fyier linbe bet beg 53ad)eg Sfttefeln, 
Der line <2ilfrer fpielet iiber ^iefeln; 

3fytn sevfyatlet nulber ©peere $lang, 

£ier nntarmen ftd> gctrene ©arren, 
Stiffen fid) auf griinen fammtnen fatten, 

StefrgefcSt »om S3alfam»efl; 
3bre $rone futbet fyter bie 2tebe, 
Sicker Por beg £obeg ftrengem £iebe, 

geiert fie ein eroig Jpod^geitfiift, 



Sirifdj a turner beg SftorgenS lebenbiger £au<3»; 

$)urpurifeb gitdt burd) biiftrer Sannen 3fti£ett 
Dag junge Sidji unb augelt au^ bent ©fraud) $ 

e<ii£Cera fdmmti. SBerte. I. 3 



33 

The hours wing their flight 'mid sweet trances of 

pleasure ; 
The soul gushes forth into space without measure ; 
Truth here rends the veil in twain. 

Joys never failing 

O'erflow the glad heart. 
Here grief has no name to express her bewailing, 
But keen is the rapture, and blissful the smart. 

The way-faring pilgrim, with weariness bending, 
Beneath the cool shade his parched members extend- 
ing, 

Casts off the load that so heavily weighed : 
Here too the reaper, his sickle forsaken, 
Lulled by the notes that the harp-strings awaken, 

Dreams of rich harvests around him displayed. 

He whose banner 'midst war's tempests fluttered, 
Round whose ears the murder-cry was uttered, 

Whilst earth shook beneath his thunder-tread, 
Gently slumbers here, beside the purling 
Streams, o'er silvery pebbles peaceful curling — 

Clashing spears break noiseless o'er Ins head. 

Here the tender wife her spouse embraces, 
Soft reposing in these verdant places ; 

Balmy gales, caressing, round them play. 
Here Love finds the crown on earth denied her, 
And, Death's threatening arm no more beside her, 

Keeps an endless wedding holiday. 

THE FUGITIVE. 

Fresh breathes the living air of dawning day, 

The young Light reddens through the dusky pines, 
Ogling the tremulous leaves with wanton ray : 



34 

Sn goTbnen ftlammtn Mi£en 
Der SBerge SBolfenfptjjen* 

2ft it freubig melobifd) getmrbeltem Sieb 
S3egriif en etn?ad)enbe Serdjen bie Sonne, 
£)ie fcfyon in Iad)enber 2Bonne 

3ngenblid) fdjim in Auroras ■Umarmuna.en QtfyL 

<2ei, ?tdjt, mix gefcgnet; 

S)ctn ©traljlcngug regnet 
©rttarmenb fycrnieber auf dinger ttnb 2Tu. 

SCie ftlberfarb flittern 

£)ie SSiefen, rote gtttertt 
£anfenb ©onnen in perlenbem £f)au! 

3n faufclnber ^ut)Ic 
Seginnen bie ©piele 

£)er jnngen S^atur, 
£>ie 3epf)9re fofcn 
Unb fdbmcid&cltt urn 3ft ofm 
Unb Diifte beftromen bie Iad)enbe $fur* 

SBte Ijod) anS ben (Stabteit bie Staudjroolfen bnntpfen! 
Sant roiefyern nnb fcfynanben nnb fntrfcfoen nnb [tram* 

pfen 
2)ie 3ft o fe, bie barren; 
2)ie S3 a gen erfnarren 
3n3 ad^enbe X§aU 
£)ie S$albnngen leben, 
Unb Slbler un^o fallen nnb Jpabicbte fdjroeben, 
Unb roiegen bie g-Iiigel im blenbenten ©trafyU 

2)cn gtteben gn ftnben, 

SSofyin foil id) roenben 

2lm elenben ^tab? 



34 

The cloud-capt hill-tops shine 
With golden flame divine, 
And all melodious thrills the lusty song 

Of skylarks, greeting the delighted Sun, 
As to Aurora's arms he steals along ; — 
And now in bright embrace she clasps the Glowing 
One! 

O Light, hail to thee ! 

How the mead and the lea 
The warmth and the. wave of thy splendor suffuse ! 

How silver-clear shimmer 

The fields, and how glimmer 
The thousand suns glassed in the pearl of the dews ! 

How frolic and gay 

Is young Nature at play, 
Where the cool-breathing shade with low whispers is 
sweet ; 

Sighing soft round the rose, . 

The Zephyr, its lover, caressingly goes, 
And over the Meadow the light vapors fleet ! 

How, high o'er the city the smoke-cloud is reeking, 
What snorting and rattling, and trampling and creak- 
ing ; 
Neighs the horse — the bull lows, 
And the heavy wain goes 
To the valley that groans with the tumult of Day ; 
The life of the Woodlands leaps up to the eye — 
The Eagle, the Falcon, the Hawk, wheel on high, 
On the wings that exult in the ray I 

Where shall I roam, 
O Peace, for thy home ? 
With the staff of the Pilgrim, where wander to Thee ? 



35 

SMe fctdjenbe (£rbe 
9ft it 3itnglingegeberbe 
giir mid) nur ein ®raM 

(Steig* empor, o Slftorgenrotij, unb rotfye 

9ftit purpurnem $uffe fyain unb geibl 
©awflc niebcr, STbenbrotfy, unb flote 
©anft in ©d)lummer 6ic erftorbne SBelt; 
Sftorgen — afyl bu rotfyejt 
Sine Xobteuflur, 
216! unb bu, o SIbenbrotlj! umfloteji 
Sfteinen langen ©glummer nur* 



5>ie 'gSfitmm. 

jtinber ber serjuugten (Sonne, 

33lumen ber gefcbmiicften glur, 
(£ud) eqog gu Suft unb SBonne, 

3a, tu6) liebte bie 9?atur. 
©cfyon ba$ $fetb mtt 2id)t gefticfet, 
<3d)on fyat glora eudj gefcfymiidet 

9ft it ber garben ©otterpradjt. 
Jpolte griifyltngefiuber, flaget! 
©eele fyat fie eud) serfaget, 

Unb ifyr felber motynt in Vlafyt. 

*ftad)ttgau' uub Serene jtngen 
&u§ ber Siebe felig £oo3, 

©autelnbe (Splp^tben fdjimngen 
SBufylenb fid) auf eurem <£<$oojji. 

$}olbte cured ,fteld)r$ $rone 

tftic&t bie ST center ber £)ione 



35 

The face of the Earth, 
With the smile of its mirth, 
Has only a grave for me ! 

Rise, rosy Morn, to light and life arise ! 

Forest and field with purple kisses flushing, 
Sink, rosy Eve, with flute-like melodies 

The weary world in happy slumbers hushing. 
Morn, in the world thou mak'st so beautiful 

But one dark Burial-place the Pilgrim knows I 
O Eve, the sleep thy melodies shall lull 

Is — but my long repose ! 

Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. 



THE FLOWERS. 

Children of the sun's new splendor, 

Flowers of the enamelled earth, 
Born fresh gifts and joys to render, — 

Nature loved you at your birth I 
Broidered rays, a robe, surround you, 
Flora has with beauty crowned you, 

Heavenly pomp of colors bright ! 
Spring-born, weep for one thing wanted ; 
Soul the Goddess has not granted ! — 

Fox yourselves you dwell in night. 

Nightingale and lark are singing 
To you love's delicious haps ; 

Tricksy sylphids, too, are flinging 
Rival forms into your laps. 

When Dione's daughter moulded 

Your arched cups, she surely folded 



36 

(Sdjttetfenb ju ber Siebe $fu$l? 
3arte gritfyEingsf inter, roei.iei! 
Siebe^at fie encb x>ernetnet, 

Sud) ba3 felige ©efiU)U 

StBer Bat ans 9cantt93 Sltcfen 

SKtdj ber Gutter ©prudj serbannt, 
SBenn end) ntetne ipanbe pfliicfert 

3^r $um jarten Siebe^pfanb, 
SeBen, Spracfye, ©eelen, £>eqen, 
(gtumme 23oten fiiger Sdjmergett, 

©o{5 eud) bte^ Seriibren ein, 
Unb ber madjttgjle ber ©otter 
(EcMie§t in eure ftitten flatter 

Seine |o^e ©ottfyett ein. 



gtti ben Sttiiljfhtij. 

SMftfommen, ftftb'ner Singling! 

£>n 23onne ber 9catur! 
Sftit beinem 23(nmenforbcben 

SStUfommen auf ber glur ! 

(Si! Si! ba bt|r ja ttneber! 

Unb btft fo lieb nnb fd^on! 
Unb frenn roir nnS fo ^er^lid), 

Sntgegen bir ^n ge^n, 

SDenfjt and) nodj an metn 2ftab$en$ 

Si, Sieber, benfe bocb! 
£ort tiebte mtdb ba» Sftatdjen, 

Unb '3 ^abc^en Itebt mid) nodj ! 



36 

Love's own swelling pillow there. 
Mourn, ye Spring-born, that forever 
Love and you are doomed to sever, 

And its bliss you cannot share 1 

But when mother's words, stern spoken, 

Banish me from Nanny's view, 
And, as tender pledge and token, 

I am seeking, gathering you, — 
Life, mind, heart, and soul's expression, 
Heralds dumb of sweet-sick passion, 

Through you pours this flame of mine ; 
And the chief of heavenly powers 
In your silent leaves, ye flowers, 

"Wraps his energy divine. 

JV. L. Frothingham. 



ODE TO SPRING. 

Thou'rt welcome, beauteous Stripling, 

* Thou, Nature's only Love ! 
With basket full of flowers, 
Art welcome from above ! 

Thou'rt come again to cheer us ! 

How wondrous fair and sweet ! 
And heartily rejoicing 

We hasten thee to greet ! 

Remember 'st thou my Maiden ? 

Oh, do not answer, nay ! 
She loved me erst so dearly, — 

She loves me to this day. 



37 

giirS Sftabdjen tnan&td 33Iumdjen 
(Srbat ic^ mtr son bir — 

3d) fomm 1 unb bitte ttueber, 
Unb bu ? — bu giebft e$ mtr, 

SBiflfommen, fd)6ner 3ungling I 
£)u SBonne ber 9?atur! 

Stttt betnem 23lumenforbd)ert 
SBillfommen auf ber ftluxl 



^n 'g&itttta. 

Sraum 1 id)? tjt metii 5luge triiber? 

^ebcit'd mtr um^ 2htgejl$t? 
Sftetne 9Jitnna cjefyt soruber? 

9fteine Sftinna fennt midj nidjt? 
Die am Wrnte feid)ter £t)oren 

23laf)enb mtt bem gad)er ftdjt, 
Site! in fid) felbft aerloren — 

2Mne yRinna ift e<3 nidjt 

SSon bem (Sommerfjute niden 

(Stolgc $ebern, mein (SJefdjenf, 
(pdjteifett, bie ben 23ufen fdjmiiden, 

Sftufen: Sftinna, fet gebenf! 
Slitmen, bie id) felt) ft eqogen, 

3iercn 33ruft unb £oden nod) — 
5Id) bie S3ruft, bie mir gelogen! 

Unb bie Slumen Uufytn bod)! 

©etj, umtjiipft tton teerett ©djmeicfytern! 

©eV- *>ergifj auf erotg. mtdj, 
Uebediefert feilen Jpeu^Iern, 

Sitle* SBeib, fceradjt* icfy bify. 



37 

For her I begged fair flowers, 

I never begged in vain ; 
Once more I come entreating, 

And thou ? — wilt give again I 

Thou'rt welcome, beauteous Stripling, 
Thou, Nature's only Love ! 

With basket full of flowers, 
Art welcome from above 1 



TO MINNA. 

Is'T a dream that hovers o'er me ? 

Have my senses told me right ? 
Does my Minna pass before me ? 

Does my Minna shun my sight ? 
On some shallow coxcomb leaning, 

Flirting with her fan so free, 
Lost in vanity unmeaning, — 

No 1 my Minna — 'tis not she. 

On her light hat nodding proudly, 

Gorgeous plumes — the gift was mine ! 
Flaunting breast-knots, calling loudly, 

" Minna, look ! who made us thine ? " 
Blossoms trained in happier hours 

For thy bosom and thy hair — 
Ah ! they're blooming yet, those flowers, 

And that bosom false and fair. 

Go ! vain flatterers skipping round thee — 

Go ! forget my love to prize. 
Base dissembling arts have bound thee, 

And their victim I despise. 
12 



38 

(M ! btr $at etit ^>erg gefcfyfagen, 
T>ix ein £er3, ba£ ebel [cfytng, 

©ro§ genng, ben (Stf)tner$ gu tragen, 
£a£ ed einer &l)imn fttylug. 

(Scfron^ett tjat bein -Iperg serborfien, 

£>ein ©eficfytdjen! — <2d)ame bid)! 
Sftorgen iji fein ©lang erftorben, 

<Setne £Rofe Mattert ftdj. 
©cfymalben tie im £enge minnen, 

$tief)en, toenn ber 9?orbirinb tteljt; 
S3uMer fdjeudjt bein £erbft son fyinnen, 

Ginen greunb §aft bu serfdom a fyr. 

3n ben Sriimmern beiner <2$one 

©dj 1 id) bid) »erlaj7;n gefyn, 
SBemcnb in bie 5Mumenfcene 

2)etnc$ Sftai's guritde fei)tt- 
Die mit fyei^em Siebeggeige 

£>einem ^u§ entgegenf(ofjn, 
3ifcfyen bem erlofdmen S^ei^e, 

£adjen betnem ©inter £oljrt. 

<Sd)6nf)ett $at bein £er$ serbotben, 

£>ein ©cftdjtdjm! — (Scft&me bi$! 
Sftorgen tft fein ©lanj erftorfcen, 

Seine 3ft efe blotter! ftdj — 
£a! nue null id) bann bic^ tyofjnenl 

£6!)nen? ©ctt bercaljre mid) ! 
SBeinen null id) Mttre Straiten, 

SBeinen, SDMnna ! ixber bid). 



38 

Go I for thee a heart was beating, 
Once, with honest pulse and true — 

Ah ! how painful 'tis, repeating, 
That it ever beat for you. 

'Tis by beauty thou'rt betrayed — 

By thy features, shameless one ! 
But their roses soon will fade, 

Soon their transient charms be gone !* 
Swallows courting Spring's warm cover 

Flee when wintry storms descend — 
From thine Autumn shrinks the Lover ; 

And thou hast disdained the friend. 

'Midst the wrecks of all thy beauty, 

Lo ! I sae thee stand alone — 
Flatterers none to do thee duty ; 

And thy May forever flown. 
They who once, with love delighted, 

Flew to meet thy melting kiss, 
Laugh to scorn thy beauties blighted, 

And thy lost allurements hiss. 

'Tis by beauty thou'rt betrayed — 

By thy features, shameless one ! 
But their roses soon will fade, 

Soon their transient charms be gone I* 
Ha ! how then will I too scorn thee ! 

— Scorn, thee, Minna ? — Heaven forefend I 
Ko ! with bitter tears I'll mourn thee, — 

Mourn thee, Minna ! to the end. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A., 
and Lord Francis Egerton. 



* See note 6. 



39 
5cr ^riitmpS to <$itte. 

Sine ^pmne. 

(Scltg burd) bie Stefce 
©otter — burd) bie SteBe 

9ftenfd)en ©ottern gleicfy! 
£iebe mad)t ben ipimmel 
&immlifdjer — bie (Erbe 

3u bem £>immelreid). 

©inftenS Winter tyyufyat Sftiitfett, 

(Stimmen £id)ter eitt, 
(Sprang bie SBclt cm$ getfcnftutfen, 

9#enfd)cn auS bem ©ieitt. 

©tern unb gelfen iljre ^erjen, 

3l)re ©eelcn SRadjt, 
Son beg £immels $Iammctt*er$ett 

9Ue in ©lutf) gefacfyh 

Sftodj mtt fanften Sftofenfettett 
S3anben junge 2Imoretten 

3^vc ©eelen nie — 
5^oc^ ntit Siebern i^ren S3nfen 
£uoen nidjt bie toeicfyen 9ftufen, 

9lie mit ©attenfyarmonie. 

21 dj! nodj franben feine Grange 

Stebenbe fid) urn! 
£ranrig jTiid)teten bte Settle 

9lafi) Sfyjtum. 

Ungegriifkt ftieg Slttrora 
2fnS bem ©rijeojj be3 9fteer3, 

ttttgegriifjet fanf bte ©onne 
3n ben Sd)oog be$ SfteerS* 



39 
THE TKIUMPH OF LOYE. 

A HYMST. 

Gods through Love are blessed : 
Men, of Love possessed. 

Equal Gods above. 
Heaven more heavenly showeth — 
Earth a Heaven groweth — 

Through the force of Love. 

Once, in Pyrrha's age, our planet 
— (So the bards have shown) 

Sprang from shapeless blocks of granite, 
And mankind from stone. 

Hard their hearts as rocks unriven — 

Dark their souls as night — 
Never by the torch of Heaven 

"Waked to Life and Light. 

Never had young Loves been wreathing 
Rosy fetters perfume-breathing, 

Those rude souls to bind ; 
Nor the Muses bliss-bestowing 
Ever poured their raptures glowing 

On the Poet's mind. 

Ah ! for them in close embraces 

Yet no garlands twined, 
And,- without the vernal graces, 

E'en Elysium pined. 

Eos from the bed of ocean 

Unsaluted rose ; 
Unsaluted to the ocean 

Phoebus sank at evening's close. 



40 

SSttb umtrrten fie bie £atne 
U titer SunaS 9?ebelfd)eine, 

Srngen eifern 3odj. 
© fynenb an fccr ©ternenBiitjne 
©udjte bie gefyeime Xtyx'&nt 

^eine ©otter nod). 



ttttb ftefj ! ber Manen gftttlj enranttlt 
£>te £immel3tod)t:r fa it ft unb milt, 

©etragen oon ^ajabeit 

3u trunfetien ©eftaben. 

Gin jugenblid)er Sftaienfd&ttjuna. 

£urd)n?ebt, rote 9ftorgenbammeruitg, 
2luf baa aflmadu'ge ©erbe 
guft, $immcl, s JJieer unb Srbe, 

£eS fjolben £age3 2Ittge Iad)t 
3n biiftrer SSalber 9)iitterna$t; 

SBalfamifcfye Stocijfen 

S3iit§n unter t^reit giifen* 

©$on flctcte bie ftadjttgau' 

'Den erften (Sang ber £iefce, 
©Aon nturmette ber Cuellen #atf 

3n tocid)e Sufen Stebe* 

©titdfeliger ^jpgmalion! 

g? ftfemilgt, eg gliifst bein STtermor <"d)on! 
© o 1 1 51mor, Ucberroinberi 
Umarme beine ^inberl 



40 

Savages through forests roaming 
Under Luna's misty gloaming — 

(Hard the yoke they bear !) 
In the starry vault, with yearning, 
No soft tears of secret mourning 

Sought a God to cheer. 



And lo ! by circling Naiades 

Soft cradled on the balmy breeze, 
From out the dark blue water 
Glides forth bright Heaven's daughter. 

A burst of universal May 
Like faintest blush of opening day, 
At the Almighty's breathing 
Air, sky, sea, earth enwreathing. 

The beauteous eye of Day shines bright 
Amidst the gloom of dark midnight ; 
Narcissus fragrance shedding 
Around his gladsome treading. 

Love's earliest notes the nightingale 
Sweet carols through the grove ; 

And fountains murmur through the vale, 

To each soft bosom, Love. 

O blest, thrice-blest Pygmalion ! 

It melts — it burns— thy sculptured stone. 

O Love ! all-conquering power — 

Thy children safe embower I 



41 

©eltg burdj bte Steoe 
©otter — bnrd) t»te Steoe 

9ftenfcfyen ©ottern gtetdjl 
Siebe macfyt ben £tmmet 
£tmmltfd)er — bte (Srbe 

2>u fcem £immelretdj. 



ttttter golbnem 9Mtarf$anm, 
(Sin toottitff ge r 9J2orgentranm, 

(Snug £uftgelage, 

gltefyn ber ©otter Sage* 

Snjrottettb auf etfjaonem ©tjj, 
<Sd)n>ingt ^ronion feirtcn 23(t£; 
S)er DltympnS fdjroanft erfd)rocfen, 
SBallen gitrnenb feme Soden — 

©ottern tag t er fetne Sljrone, 
9ttebert ftc^ gnm (Srbenfofyne, 
©enfet arfabifd) bnr$ ben ^>ain, 
Bafyme Conner nntern ^iipen, 
(gcfylaft, genuegt »on %&a$ Stiffen, 
©cfylaft ber Sfttefentobter etn» 

SRateftat'fdje (Sonnenroffe 
£)ur$ be3 ZifyttZ toeiten Slaum 
Seitet sptjobus' golbner 3 a «w; 

SSoHer ftiirgt fein raffelnbeS ©efdjojfe, 
@etne tr-etj^en ©onnenrojfe, 
(Seine raffelnben ©cfcfyoffe, 

Unter Sieb 1 nnb iparmonte, 

£a! n?ie gern oerga£ er fte! 



41 

Gods through Love are blessed- 
Men, of Loce possessed, 

Equal Gods above. 
Heaven more heavenly showeth- 
Earth a Heaven groweth — 

Through the force of Love. 



With the Immortals glides away, 
Like a morning-dream, the day, 
In ambrosial bowers, 
'Mid bright nectar-showers. 



Throned on high, the King of kings 
Round his forked lightning flings, 
Shaking from his locks the thunder, 
Whilst Olympus trembles under. 



Yet he quits the heavenly portals, 
Mixes with the herd of mortals, 
Roams Arcadian forests deep ; 
And— his bolts all harmless lying — 
Sinks on Leda's bosom sighing, 
By her kisses lulled asleep. 

Heavenly coursers, radiant glowing," 
Through the light's unbounded plains, 
Phoebus guides with golden reins, 

Nations with his shafts o'erthrowing. 
Yet, in all his glory's pride, 
Steeds and quiver laid aside, 

Leaves them— (ah, how willingly !) 

Lost in Love and Harmony. 



42 

5>or ber ©atttn beg ^roniben 
Sxngen firf) bte Uraniben. 

(3tot3 oor ifyrem SSagentfyrone 
SBriiftet fid) bag $fauenpaar; 

9ttit ber golbnen Jperrfdj erf rone 
©djmitcft fte i^r ambroftfcfy Jpaar* 

(5d)6ne f^iirfltrt ! a&, bte CteBe 

3ttt?rt, mtt bent fit§en £rtebe 
Deiner ^TRajeftat ju nafm; 

Unb oon ifyren ftoljen £6fyett 
9}?u§ bte ©otterfontam 

Um beg 0to$eg ©iirtel flefyen 
23ei ber Jpeqenfej^Ierin* 



(Seltg bnrd) bte SteBe 
©otter — bnrd) bie Stetie 

9ftenfd)en ©ottern gletdj! 
£ieBe mad)t ben iptmntel 
£tmmftfd)er — bte (Srbe 

3u bem £tmmelrei$. 
* 

SMeBe fonnt bag Sftetcfc ber Sftacfyt! 
.5tmorg fitter 3dnbermad)t 
3ft ber Drfug nntertfyantg; 
grennbltdj biidt ber fdjtoarje $onig, 
2£enn ifym Sereg 1 Softer lacfyt. 
Sieoe fonnt bag 3tetdj ber Sftadjt* 

£tmmltfdj in bte £6tle fTanam 

Unb ben totlben fitter jtoangert 

£)eine Steber, Zfyxatitv — 



42 

To the sister-Queen of Jove 
Bow them all the powers above. 

Proud before her car setherial, 
Breasting sail the peacock-pair, 

And the golden crown imperial 
Circles her ambrosial hair. 

Beauteous Empress ! Love aspiring 
Trembles with the sweet desiring 

To approach thy sacred might ; 
Yet from her celestial station 

Must Saturnia's self descend, 
And in lowly supplication 

To the Queen of soft delight 

For her conquering cestus bend. 



Gods through Love are blessed — 
Men, of Love possessed, 

Equal Gods above. 
Heaven more heavenly showeth — 
Earth a Heaven groweth — 

Through the force of Love. 



Love illumes the realm of night. 
Orcus owns his magic might. 
E'en the gloomy monarch's pride 
Melts before his ravished bride, 
When she smiles, divinely bright — 
Love illumes the realm of night. 

Heavenly sweet, through Hades swelling, 
And its guardian fierce compelling, 
Thracian bard ! thy lays resound. 



43 

9Kttto3, %i)xamn tm ©eftd&te, 
Sftilbete bte jQualgeridjte, 
gartltdj urn 9J?egarett3 SBangett 
$it§tett fid& bie ttntben ©cfylangett, 

Nettie ©eifet Hafc^te me!)r; 
Slufgejagt son Or^cud' £eier 
glog son Sitt^o^ ber ©etcr; 
£eifer fym am Ufer rcmfdjtett 
Zdbe unb (SocptuS, laufcfyten 

£)einen Siebern, ^racier! 

Siefce fangft iu, Zi)vackxl 
* 

@»tig burdj bte SieBe 
©otter — burcfy Me Siefce 

9ftenfd>en (Mttern gleid^I 
Stefce ma&t ben £immel 
£tmmlifcfyer — bie Srbe 

3u bem £>immefreic^ 
* 

IDurd) bie emtge 9?atur 

Mftet i^re 93lumenfpur> 
2Bet)t ifyr goibner gliigel. 

SS3infte mir »om 9JionbenTi$t 

SIpfyrobitenS 2Utge nicfyt, 
Sfacfyt som ©onnenfyiigel, 

Sa^elte ttom ©ternenmeer 

9Wd>t bie ©Stttn git mir ber, 

©tern' unb <3onn' unb $1 onb enlidjt 

Sfcgten mir bie Seele nidjt* 

glebe; £iebe tad)elt nur 

$u3 bem Sluge ber Statur, 
SBie au$ einem Spiegel! 



43 



Minos, tears of soft repentance 
Shedding, 'bates his penal sentence. 
Amorously, the serpents wild 
On Megsera's brows are coiled ; 

And the air no longer wound 

Whip and scourge, with torturing sound. 
Chased by Orpheus' lyre, away 
Tityus' vulture from his prey 
Flies— more soft on either shore 
Lethe and Cocytus roar, 

Listening, Thracian, to thy strain — 

Thracian ! Love inspired the vein. 
* 

Gods through Love are blessed — 
Men, of Love possessed, 

Equal Gods above. 
Heaven more heavenly showeth ; 
Earth a Heaven groweth, 

Through the force of Love, 



Through eternal Nature's reign, 
Fragrance tracks Lovers flowery train- 
Wave his pinions streaming — 
Aphrodite ! did thine eye 
Look not from the moon-lit sky, 
From the hill-tops beaming — 
From the starry Ocean floor 
Did the Goddess smile no more ; 
Stars, and sun, and moonlight free, 
To my soul a blank would be. 
Let but Love, with smile divine, 
From the eye of Nature shine, 
Like a mirror gleaming I 



44 

£teBe raufdjt ber @tlBerBa$, 
Stebe lefyrt tfyn fanfter toaEenj 

(Seete fyaudjt fie in ba3 2ldj 
$lagenreid)er 9tad)ttga{len — 

£ieBe, SieBe tifpett nur 

2luf ber Saute ber Sftatur. 

SBetgfjeit mtt bem (SonnenBltcf, 
©ro$e ©ottin, tritt guriidf, 

2Qetd)e Dor ber 2teBe! 
9Ue (SroBrern, giirften nie 
Seugtejt bu tin ©flasenfnfe, 

23eug 1 e$ ijjt ber SteBe! 

2Ber bte jleile ©ternenBafjn 
©tna, bir Ijelbentufyn soran 

3u ber ©ottl)eit <5i£e? 
SBer jerrtp bag ipeiltgtfyum, 
3etgte bir Styftum 

£)urrf) be^ ©raBeS $t£e? 
Sotfte fie urt^ nidjt fyinetn, 
9ft6d)ten ttnr unfterBUdj fein ' 
©ucfyten audj bte ©eifter 
£>t)ne fteben lifter? 

SieBe, £ieBe leitet nur 

3u bem 33a ter ber Watuv, 

SteBe nur bte ©eifter. 

(Selig burdj bte SteBe 
©otter — burd) bte SteBe 

Sftenfcfjen ©ottern gletdj! 
SieBe mad)t ben Jpimmel 
£tmmttfdjer — bie Srbe 

3u bem •"jptrnmelretdj* 



44 

Silver brooks glide gentler by, 
Love their course restraining — 

Love— the soul that breathes the sigh 
Of the nightingale complaining. 

Love— 'tis Love that thrills alone 

In responsive Nature's tone. 

Wisdom, with her sun-bright eye — 
(Mighty Goddess !) turns to fly, 

When true Love advances ; 
Thou, who never bendest knee 
Unto mortal sovereignty, 

Bow to Love's sweet glances ! 

Who the starry path sublime 
Did before thee boldly climb 

To the seat of Heaven ? 
Who the sacred veil hath rent, 
And Elysian glimpses sent 

Through the grave-stone riven ? 
Wer't not for Love's witchery, 
Should we all immortal be ? 
Might our souls inherit, 
Else, the Master Spirit ? 

Love — 'tis Love alone that leads 

To the source whence all proceeds — 

Love alone that guideth 

There where God presideth. 

Gods through Love are blessed — 
Men, of Love possessed, 

Equal Gods above. 
Heaven more heavenly showeth — 
Earth a Heaven groweth — 

Through the force of Love. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



45 



2>as $fM ltttb bie 'gWsfjetf. 

CEnt^toeit nut einem ^asoriten, 
glog einft gortutt' t>er 2Bei$fjett $u: 

„3d) will t»tr meinc ©d)a|3e bieten, 
<Sei meine greunbin fcu ! 

STZtt mcinen reidjften, fdjonjkn ®ahtn 

33efd)entT tdj ityn fo miitterlidj, 
Unb fiel), er null nod) tmmer fyaben, 

Unb nennt nod) gei^ig mid). 

$omm, ©djmefler, Tag un$ ^reunbfc^aft f^Iiejjett, 
£)u marterft btdj an beinem $fhtg; 

3n beinen <Sd)oo£i mill id) fie gie^ert, 
£ier ift fitr bid) nnb midj QtnuQ." 

(Sophia tadjeft biefen SBorren 

Unb tuifd)t ben ©cfymeig »om 2ut$eft$t: 
„£)ort eilt bein greunb, fid) jn ermorben, 

SSerfo^net en^, id) brand) bid) mc$U" 



^antterumr&e. 

3dj bin em Wann I $3er ijl e$ ntetyr? 

2Ber^ fagen fann, ber fpringe 
grei nnter @)otte$ <5onn' ein^er 

Unb ppfe tyodj unb finge* 

3u ®otte3 fdjonem QZhmUlb 
Stann i$ ben ©tempel jeigen, 

3um SBorn, tooraus ber £tmmel quiHt, 
£>arf i$ fyinunter jleigen* 



45 



FOBTUNE AND WISDOM. 

Once, with a favorite having broken, 
Fortune to Wisdom chose to wend. 
" Thine be my riches, by this token, 
That thou become my friend. 

" On Him I showered my choicest treasure 
Most like a mother, fond and free ; 
Yet now he asks for larger measure, 
And calls me niggardly. 

"Come, sister, let's conclude a treaty — 
No more stand drudging at the plough ; 
I'll pour forth«all my stores to greet ye ; 
I have for both enow." 

Sophia laughed, and heard no further, 
But from her forehead wiped the brine : 
" There runs thy friend to act self-murther. 
Pray pardon me — I'll none of thine." 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 

I AM a man ! Who more can be ? 

Then let him come and fling 
His fetters to the winds, and free 

And joyous let him sing ! 

Upon God's image I impress 
My manhood's royal seal ; 

And on love's fountain I possess 
A claim without repeal. 



13 



46 



Unb weSI mir, bag ufc'$ barf unb Tannl 
©efyfg 9)?dtd)en mir soriiber, 

Stuff g laut in mir: £)u bift em Gianni 
Unb fiiffe fte fo lieber* 

Unb rotter mirb bag SDcdbdjen bann, 
Unb'g SDlteber tt>irb ifyr enge* 

S)a$ Siftdbcben n>ei§, id) bin ein 9ftann, 
Drum nnrb ifyr'g 9)?ieber enge. 

2Bie fturb fte erft urn ©nabe fdjrein, 

(Srtapp 1 id) fte im Sate? 
3d) Bin ein Sftann, bag faflt i&r ein, 

2Bie fcfyrie fte fonft urn ©nattf! 

3d) Bin ein 9ftann, mit biefem 28ort, 

SScgcgu' id) ifyr atleine, 
Sag 1 ify beg ^aiferg £od)ter fort, 

©o lumpiest icfy erfefyeine* 

Unb biefeg gotbne 2Q6rtdjen madjt 

yjtix mand)e giirjrm fyolbe. 
9ftid> ruft fte — ^abt inbeffm SBafyt 

3fy* S3uben bort im ©clfce! 

3$ bin ein 9ftann, bag !6nnt tfjr f$on 

2ln meiner £eier ried)en, 
©ie braugt batyin im ©tegegton, 

©onji ttitrbe fte.ja frtedjen* 

Slug eben biefem ©djopferfluf, 
SBoraug mir Sftenfdjen tterben, 

£}uillt ©otterfraft unb ©eniug, 
$Qz$ madjtta, ijt auf (Srben* 



46 



And faith ! I love this precious boon I 

A maiden passes me ; 
And if I see the maiden swoon, 

I kiss her tenderly. 

And sweetly does the maiden blush, 

And gently beats her heart ; 
Sweet nature's instincts what can hush, 

Or counterfeit by art ? 

"Will she, perchance, for pity cry,* 

If unawares she's caught ? 
She finds that I'm a man — then, why 

By her is pity sought ? 

I am a man ! this potent spell 

Inspires with trembling fear 
A princess in a lonely dell, 

Though ragged I appear. 

And royal maids are fond of me 

And love my talisman ; 
While lackeys watch, they send for me, 

Because I am a man. 

I am a man ! you know it all, 

I sing a manly song ; 
If I were not, my lyre would crawl, 

Not rush with might along. 

Ev'n genius, kingly power and worth, 

In one mysterious flow, 
Gush from the same deep fountains forth, 

That human life bestow. 



* See note c. 



47 



Zyxanntn $ajjt ntein talisman 

Unb fd)mcttert \it gu 23oben, 
Unb !ann er 1 3 nicfyt, fitfjrt er bie 23a$tt 

greinullig gu ben &o£tetu 

£)en $erfer Jjat metn Xaliman 

2lm ®raniht6 be^roungen, 
Sftoms SBolluftlinge 9ftann fitr Sfftann 

2luf bentfdjen ©ant) gerungen, 

©efjt tljr ben Corner (I0I3 nnb franS 

3n Slfrifa bott ft£en? 
©ein 2ing' fpeit genevflammen aus, 

2U$ fdfyt ityr £efta bitten. 

£)a fcmmt ein 23nbe ttofylgemnt^, 

©iebt ntancfyeg ju »erftefyen. 
„@prtdj, bn fydtt'ft anf .ftart^ago'S @t§tttt 

£>en SD^-ariud gefefyen?" 

©0 fpti&t ber (totge SftomerSmann 

9tod) grof in feinem ftatlt. 
(£r ift nidjts tueiter al$ ein Sftann, 

Unb »or itym gittern atte. 

©rauf tfydten feine @nfel fid) 

3fyr (Erbtfyeil gar abbrefyen, 
Unb fyuben jebermdnntgltcfy 

Slnmnt^ig an gu frdfyen. 

©djntad} bent fombabtf^en ©ef$le$tl 

Die Stenben, fte fyabtn 
95erfd)ergt ifyr fyofyes 9ftdnnerre$t, 

£>e$ £intmelg befte ©aben* 



47 

My manhood hates all tyranny, 

And breaks its iron rod ; 
And if it fails in victory 

It sinks beneath the sod. 

On Granicus, the Persian Czar 

By my fierce power was lost ; 
On German soil 'twas wont to war 

In triumph 'gainst Eome's host. 

Here where the ground with battles shook, 

What may this Roman seek ? 
Fire flashes from his piercing look 

Like flames from Hecla's peak. 

He sits in thoughtful, silent mood, 

A hero stern and proud : 
" Here Marius sits where Carthage stood, 

Proclaim it far and loud I" 

Thus speaks the Roman, greater still 

And mightier in his fall ; 
His soul still nerved by iron will, 

His foes still trembling all. 

And his descendants meet, alas I 

In his ancestral hall ; 
Each brays still louder than an ass, 

His portion seems so small. 

Shame on this race, of manly right, 
Of Heaven's best gifts bereft ; 

It dreads a woman's cheering sight, 
It has no manhood left. 



48 

Unb fdtfenbern elenb burdj bie SScTt 

2Bte ^iirbtffe t>on 23uben 
3u 9ftenfd)enfopfen au^ge^o^It; 

SDte <5d)abel leere (Stuben! 

SOSie SBettt son ehtem (StyemtfuS 
£>urd) bie Retort 1 getriebeu, 

Qum Seufel ift ber ©ptrttuS, 
£)a3 $t)legma ift geMiebetu 

Unb fltefyen jebeS SBeibSgeftdjt, 
Unb bittern e$ p fetjen — 

Unb biivften fte, unb fonnen nityt, 
£)a molten fie ttergefyeu. 

£)rum flie^n fie jeben (Sfyrenmann, 
©ein ©liicf mirb fie betritben; 

iEBer feinen 3ftenfd)en macfyen tann, 
2)er fann and) feinen lieben. 

©rum tret 1 id) frei unb (I0T3 etnfjer 
Unb briifte mid) unb jmge: 

3$ Bin ein 5ftann, n?er tjl e3 mefjr? 
2)er fyiipfe §od? unb frrtnge* 



%n etnen 'g&orafiflen. 

SBaS siirnft bu unfrer frozen 3ugenbn?eife 

Unb lefyrft, ba§ ^teben Janbeln fei? 
2)u ftarreft in be3 SSMnterS'Sife 

Unb fc^ma^teft auf ben golbnen Wlau 

(£tnfi, al$ bu nod) bag 9tymi>$em>ot! befriegteft, 
Sin £elb beg Samc»al« ben beutfdjen SBirbel flogft 

Sin ^tmnrelreld) in beiben 2Irmen nuegtefi 
Unb Steftarbuft tton ^acdjenlippen fog(t, 



48 

The brainless wretches stagger 'bout 
Like gourds which playful boys 

Like human skulls have emptied out, 
To serve as foolish toys. 

Like chemicals in glass-retorts, 

Their blood is thick and slow ; 
The devil with their spirits sports, 

And lets their carcass go. 

They flee from every woman's form, 

Stand quaking in her sight ; 
They cannot conquer her by storm, 

And swear they'll die outright. 

The cowards hate an honest man, 

Feel troubled by his bliss ; 
No one can love his fellow-man 

Who does not love a kiss. 

And thus of freedom I can sing, 

A thing which tyrants fear ; 
" I am a man !" these words shall ring 

In every tyrant's ear. 

Charles J. Hempel, M.D t 



TO A MORALIST. 

Why teach that Love is naught but trifling vain ? — 
Why cavil at our youthful joyous play ? 

Thou art benumbed in Winter's icy chain, 
And yet canst view with scorn the golden May ! 

When erst thou didst assail the Nymph's bright 
charms, 

A Hero of the Carnival, — didst trip 
In German Waltz,— held'st Heaven within thine arms, 

And from the lips of Maidens balm didst sip,— 



49 



£>a, ©cTabon! menu bamals au3 ben 2T(^fcit 
©emtdjen war' ber (Srbe fcfyioerer 33 all — 

3nt StebeSfnaul mtt 3utten serrcadjfett, 
£)u ^atteft itfcerfyort ben gall I 

D benf juriicJ nadj beinen Sftofentagen 

Unb lerne; bie ^>^ilofof>^te 
©cfylagt urn, mie itnfre ^>ulfe anberS fdtfagen; 

Su ©bttern f^afft bu Sftenfcfyen nie» 

SBotyl, ttenn ins (£U bes fliigelnben $er(tanbe$ 
Xa$ roarme SBlut em Mjjajen. muntrer (prmgt! 

Sap ben 23ett>ol)nern tin?$ beffern fianOi:^ 
2£a$ nie Im ^terbitcfyert gelmgt* 

3mingt bod) ber trbifcfye ©efafyrte 

£)en gottgebornen (*)eift in ^erlermauern ettt, 
@r mefyrt mir, bap icfy (£ngel tverte, 

3d) will itym folgen, Wm\ty $u fettu 



$raf ^Berf)ar5 ber $reitter von v$iixiiemhx$. 

ilriegSlieb, 

3fyr — t$r bort aupen in ber SBelt, 

2)te 9iaien eingejpannt! 
Sfucty mancfyen SDiaitn, audj mattdjen £elb, 
3m grtefcen gut unb \taxt im gelfc, 

©eoar $a& ^ajwaoenlanb. 

3>ra&lt nur mtt $arl unb Sbuarb, 

SBttt grieimd), !Hiibett>ig ! 
$arl, grtebrid), ^ubenng, Sbuarb 
3 ft unS ber ®raf, fcer ^bertjarb, 

Sin SBetterfturm im $neg» 

emitters fammtl. SCerfe. I. 4 



49 

Ha, Seladon ! if then Earth's ponderous ball 
Had from its axis slipped with mighty groan, 

Thine ears would not have heard the heavy fall, 
In love-knot twined with Julia into one I 

Oh, look back now upon thy rosy days ! 

Learn that Philosophy degenerates, 
E'en as the pulse with feebler motion plays ; 

Thy knowledge, man Immortal ne'er creates. 

'Tis well when, through the ice of Sense refined, 
The fervent blood more fiercely can expand I 

What ne'er can be accomplished by mankind, 
Leave to the inmates of a better Land ! 

And yet in prison walls the guide of Earth 
Confines the Soul whose life in Heaven began ; 

He will not let me rise to Angel-worth, — 
I fain would follow him, to be a Man ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



COUNT EBERHARD, THE QUARRELER OF 
WURTEMBERG.* 

[War-Song.] 

Ye ! — ye, there, in the world without, 

Lift not your heads so grand ! 
Men hath it borne, and heroes stout, 
Alike for peace or battle-rout, — 

Our gallant Swabian land ! 

Boast of your Edward, Fred'rick, Charles, 

And Ludwig as ye might, 
Charles, Fred'rick, Ludwig, Edward too, 
Was Eberhard, our count so true, — 

A tempest in the fight. 



* See note d. 



50 



Unb ctud) fein 25uo, ber Ulertdj, 

2Bar gern, wo '$ eifern Hang; 
£)e$ ©rafcn Sub, tier Utertd), 
$ein Oupbreit riidfroarts gog er ftdj, 

SBenn'S brauf unt) brunter fprang, 

Die Sfteutlinger, auf unfern ©lartj 

(Srbittert, foc^ten ©ift, 
Unb bufjften urn ben <3iege3fran$ 
Unb wagten mand)en ©djwtrtertanj 

Uub gitrteten bie •ipuft 1 . 

Sr griff fie_an — nnb ftcgte nidjt 
Unb lam gepantfd)t nad) £au6j 
£)er SSater fdjnitt ein fatfd) ©eft$t, 
2)er junge ^riegSmann flotj ta$ Sldjt, 
Unb Xfyvanen brangen 'rau3, 

2)a3 tuurmt itym — fya ! iftr ©d)urfen mart! 

Unb trug'S in feinem $opf. 
5Iu^me^en, bei be$ Waters Sart! 
^u^ttje^en-mollt 1 er biefe ©cfyarf 

3ft it mancfyem ©tabtierfcfyopf. 

Unb $el)b' entbrannte Batb baranf 

Unb ^ogen 9x0$ unb 9J2ann 
93ei Doffingen mit ^eftem #auf, 
Unb fetter ging's bem 3un!er auf, 

Unb fjurral)! fyeig ging'3 an* 

Unb unfers Jpeere3 SofungSttJort 

S3ar bie oertorne (Bfyiafat; 
T)a3 rifj unS mie tie $?inb£braut fort 
Unb frfjmtjj uns tief in Slut unt> Sftorb 

Unb in bie San^ennacfyU 



50 



The county's boy, young Ulric, too, 

Loved well the iron clang ; 
The county's boy, young Ulric, too, 
No footfall backward ever drew, 

"Where men to saddle sprang. 

The Eeutlingers brewed vengeance-pain 

To see our names so bright ; 
And strove the victor's wreath to gain, 
And many a sword-dance dared maintain, 

And drew their girdles tight. 

He gave them war, — beshrew the fight 

Whence beaten home he came ! 
The father's brow was black as night, — 
The youthful warrior fled the light, 

And wept for very shame. 

That galled him : " Ah, ye knaves, beware !" 

(And kept it in his soul) — 
"Now by my father's beard I swear 
To grind the notch my sword doth bear 

On many a townsman's poll I" 

Nor long the time ere rose a feud : 

Forth sallied horse and man ; 
Toward Doftmgen the army stood, 
And brighter grew the younker's mood, 

And hot the fight began. 

The watchword to our men that day 

Was given — " The ill-starred fight " — 
That drove us like the storm away, 
And lodged us deep in bloody fray, 
And in the lances' night. 



51 

£):r junge ®raf, soil Sorcengtimnt, 

2Bae yor 19m ging fcas Unge|tum, 
(sy^eul nni> 2x>ut|em Jjinfcr u;m 
Uut> utn ityn ty« tad &xab. 

T)o<fy tottyl afy »c^! ein ©afcel^iefc 

<£>unt fdjmer auj |em (#eni(t 
(Sdjneli urn ifyn l)er fcer Jpelten Sriefc, 
Um|Ott|t! umjouft! erjiamt blieb 
Unu jtevbenD t>rac^ fern £Ut& 

33eftitr$nng tyemmt be$ (Sieged 33a$n, 
^aut rcuute ^etnD unt> &reunt> — 
£oa) \xfyu t>er (^raf tie iKciter an: 
2Kein v&o^n ift nue ein anfcrer 2)£annl 
2ftar]d}, Mincer! 3n Den geiufci 

Unb San^n faufen feurtger, 

2)te mua)e fpornt fie ail, 
dia^ iioei- ^eicgen gang's better, 
2Jte otafctier iaufen trtuj nno quer 

•DuvCty &tai& unt &eig unfc ^i;aU 

Unb 3ogcn roir mit Jpornerllang 

3«s tflgei: jn^ guiucf, 
Unv &5ub unv ^.tno im ^Hnnfcgefang 
©dm 2i$alger nnt beim SBedjerflang 

fiuftfetern unjer ©liicf. 

£>odj nnfer ©raf — ma$ t§at er ijjt? 

2Sor il)m i>er tot>te ©otyn. 
5Itiem rn jetnem ^dte |igt 
S)er (*h*af, nut) eute £t)rane bltjjt 

3m &ng' auf |„uun ^oi)n. 



51 



Our youthful Count, with lion's wrath, 

Swung high his hero-glaive ; 
Wild battle-roar before his path, 
Wailing and groans his feet beneath, 

And all around — the grave. 

But woe ! ah, woe ! a ghastly sword 

Fell heavy on his head ; 
The hero-band surround their lord 
In vain ; young Ulric on the sward 

With glassy eyes lay dead. 

Then horror stayed the battle's plan, 
Tears from all eyes 'gan flow ; 

But ho ! — the Count to charge began — 

" My son is as another man ; 
March, children, on the foe !" 

And fiercer rageth now the fight, 

For vengeance spurs them well ; 
Forth o'er the corpses went their might, 
And townsmen flying left and right 
O'er forest, hill, and dell. 

And blithely all our clarions rang 

When to our camp hied we ; 
And wives and children gaily sang, 
'Mid dances' whirl and beaker-clang, 

To praise our victory. 

But Eberhard, what doth he here ? 

Before him lies his son ; 
Within his tent, no mortal near, 
The Count hath dropt one sparkling tear 

That silent form upon. 



52 

S)rum ^atiQtn t»tr fo treu unb n>arm 

2lm ®rafen, mtferm £errn. 
StUetn tft er ein £>efbettfdjti?arm, 
2)er Conner raft ttt feittem 2Irm, 

(£r ijl beg 2anbes ©tern* 

£)rum i$r bort augett in ber SBelt, 

Die Sftafen efngefpannt! 
2ht$ manc^en Sftcmtt, au$ tnattdjen £elb, 
3m Sneben gut uub ftar! tm fjclb, 

<$ebar ba$ (Sdjwafceulanb* 



52 



Therefore, with love so true and warm, 

Around the Count we stand ; 
Alone, he is a hero-swarm — 
The thunder rageth in his arm, — 

The star of Swabian land. 

Then, ye there in the world without, 

Lift not your heads so grand ! 
Men hath it borne, and heroes stout, 
Alike in peace and battle-rout, 

Our gallant Swabian land. 

H. W. Dulcken. 



POEMS 



OF 



THE SECOND PERIOD. 



14 (53) 



greube, fdjoner ©otterfunfen, 

£odjter au$ Slpftum, 
2Bir Betreren feuerrrunfcn, 

£tmmlif$e, bein £etltgttjunu 
S)etne 3<JwBer Mnben tr-ieber, 

SBctS tie 9ftobe ftreng gerMtt; 
21tle Sftenfdjm tr-erben ©riiber, 

2Bo bein fanfter glitgel tr-etlt 

(S^or. 
(2etb umfdtfungen, SftitHonen ! 

SDtefen $ufj ber ganjen SGelt! 

SBritber — iiberm ©ternengelt 
SftuJ ein IteBer Sater too^nm. 

SBem ber grofje SSttrf gelungen, 

(Sines greunbes greunb £tt fetn, 
2Ber etn tjolbes 2Beif> errungen, 

SDftfdje fetnen 3wM eiitl 
3a — n?er aut^ nur ei tt e ©eele 

(Sein nennf ouf bem Srbenrunb! 
Unb roer'S nte gefonnt, ber ftetjle 

SGeinenb fid) au$ biefem 23unb» 

SJ o r. 

23as ben grc^en S^ing &en>o$net, 

•SpulMge ber <5$mpafyitl 

3u ben ©ternen leitet fie, 
2Qo ber Unkfannte ttyronet* 
(55) 



HYMN TO JOY. 

Joy, thou Goddess, fair, immortal, 

Offspring of Elysium, 
Mad with rapture, to the portal 

Of thy holy fane we come ! 
Fashion's laws, indeed, may sever, 

But thy magic joins again ; 
All mankind are brethren ever 

'Neath thy mild and gentle reign. 

Chorus. 
Welcome, all ye myriad creatures ! 

Brethren, take the kiss of love ! 

Yes, the starry realms above 
Hide a father's smiling features ! 

He, that noble prize possessing — 

He that boasts a friend that's true, 
He whom woman's love is blessing, 

Let him join the chorus too ! 
Aye, and he who but one spirit * 

On this earth can call his own ! — ■ 
He who no such bliss can merit, 

Let him mourn his fate alone ! 

Chorus. 
All who Nature's tribes are swelling 
Homage pay to Sympathy ; 
For she guides us up on high, 
Where the Unknown has his dwelling. 
(55) 



56 

$renbe trinfen affc SSefen 

2in ben SBruften ber Sftatur; 
Sttlc ©nren, aUe Sefen 

§o!gen il)rer Sftofenfpur. 
tfiijfe gob fie nn§ nnb Sfteben, 

©inert grennb, gepritft im Sob; 
SBoflufl warb bent 23urm gegekn, 

Unb ber (^ernb ftef)t Dor ©ott* 

3fiv jttirjt nieber, SDMtonen? 

Vltyntft bu ben (Stopfer, SMt? 

(Suet)' ifyn itberm (Sternenaeltl 
Ueber ©ternen muj? er rcofynen* 

greube Hjetjjt bie jtatfe S^ber 

3n ber ercigen 9latur. 
Sreube, greubc trctbt bie Sftaber 

3tt ber gropen SSeltenufyr. 
S3Iumcn lodt fie aus ben ^eimen, 

©onnen au6 bent gtrtnament, 
©pfyaren rollt fie in ben Sftannten, 

£)ie be$ (Severs 3tofyr ntdjt fennt\ 

grotj, ttne feine ©onnen fliegen 

£)urd) be3 £tmmeU pracfyr'gen $tan, 
SBanbelt, 53ritber, enre 23at)n, 

^reubig, aue ein £elb 3um ©iegeiu 

2Iu3 ber 2Ba§r$eit getterfptegel 

£ad)elt fie ben gorfdjer an. 
£>u ber £ugenb fteilem ipitgel 

Settet fie be£ £>ulber£ Saijn. 



56 



From the breasts of kindly Nature 

All of Joy imbibe the dew ; 
Good and bad alike, each creature 

Would her roseate path pursue. 
5 Tis through her the wine-cup maddens, 

Love and friends to man she gives ; 
Bliss the meanest reptile gladdens, — 

Near God's throne the Cherub lives ! 

Chorus. 

Bow before him, all creation ! 

Mortals, own the God of Love ! 

Seek him high the stars above — 
Yonder is his habitation ! 

Joy, in Nature's wide dominion, 

Mightiest cause of all is found ; 
And 'tis joy that moves the pinion, 

When the wheel of Time goes round ; 
From the bud she lures the flower — 

Suns from out their orbs of light ; 
Distant spheres obey her power, 

Far beyond all mortal sight. 

CJiorus. 

As through Heaven's expanse so glorious, 
In their orbits suns roll on, 
Brethren, thus your proud race run 

Glad as warriors all- victorious I 

Joy from Truth's own glass of fire 
Sweetly on the Searcher smiles ; 

Lest on Virtue's steeps he tire, 
Joy the tedious path beguiles. 



57 

2tuf be$ ©lanben* eonnenberge 
^iei)t man tyre Oafynen rcefyn, 

SDurdj ben £Ri^ gefprengtet ©arge 
©ie im £§or bet Sngel ftetyit. 

S ^ o v. 
Sulbet mntMg, Sfttiltonen! 

•2)ttlbet fur Die beij're SBeft! 

■Droben ubernt ©ternengelt 
SBirb ein grejjer ©ott belotynen* 

©extern faun man ntdjt eergelten, 

<zcson tft'0, tynen gleicr; gu fein. 
©ram uut 2lrmuti) fell fid) melten, 

SRit ten grofjen fid) erfreun. 
©roll uno i/iad)e fei serge jf en, 

Unferm Xotfetno fei oerjiefyn, 
^eine Xtyrane foil it)ii preffen, 

Sitine ifteue nage tytt. 

§ l) o r. 

Unfer Scfyulbbudj fei Denti^ttt! 
&usgc[ei;nr bie gauge SBelt! 
SSritber — iiberm ©teroengeft 

Sfftdjtet ©ott, rote teir geridjtet, 

§ r e n t e fpmoelt in spofalen, 

3n bet XrauBe gelcnem SSfut 
Smitten Sanftmutt) ^annibaleit, 

£ie Serjioeiflung £elbenmut$ 

fritter, fliegt i>on curen ©ijjen, 

SBetttt ter »oue Corner treUt, 
Safct ten Scbaum juui -ptmmet fprifcen: 

2)iefe$ ©la* tern guten ©eiftl 



57 

High on Faith's bright hill before us, 
See her banner proudly wave ! 

Joy, too, swells the Angels' chorus, — 
Bursts the bondage of the grave 1 

Chorus. 

Mortals, meekly wait for Heaven ! 

Suffer on in patient love ! 

In the starry realms above, 
Bright rewards by God are given. 

To the Gods we ne'er can render 

Praise for every good they grant ; 
Let us, with devotion tender, 

Minister to Grief and Want. 
Quenched be hate and wrath forever, 

Pardoned be our mortal foe — 
May our tears upbraid him never, x 

No repentance bring him low ! 

Chorus. 

Sense of wrongs forget to treasure — 
Brethren, live in perfect love ! 
In the starry realms above, 

God will mete as we may measure. 

Joy within the goblet flushes, 

For the golden nectar, wine, 
Every fierce emotion hushes, — 

Fills the breast with fire divine. 
Brethren, thus in rapture meeting, 

Send ye round the brimming cup, — 
Yonder kindly Spirit greeting, 

"While the foam to Heaven mounts up ! 



58 



C^or, 

2)en ber (Sterne SBirfcel loren, 
£>en beg <Serapt)$ Jppmrie preist, 
£)iefe$ ©lag tern guten ©etji 

Ueoerm ©ternen^eft bort often! 

geften 2D?utfy in fdjtoerem Seiben, 

£itfe, loo bte Unfcfyutb ioetnt, 
Stotgfeit gefdjroornen (Eiben, 

2Bafyri);tt gegen greunb unb $einb, 
Sftannerjfalg oor $6ntg3t|ronen, — 

SBriiber, gait 1 es ©ut unb Slut — 
jDent SSerbienflc feine kronen, 

Untergang ber £tigenorut! 

"6 $ o r. 
©djliejjt ben tyetHgen Qivhl bt$ter, 

©cfotoort bet biefem goltnen SSetn, 

3>nt ©eliibbe treu gu fein, 
(gcfyioort eg oei bem ©ternenriefyter! * 



* Sn ber Zl) alia, wo bieg ©ebtd)t juerft erfc&ien, enbtgt eS ntit folgenbet 

Strophe: 

Sftettung bon Sttjrannenfetten, 

©regmutb. aud) bem SBofenudjt, 
£offnung auf ben ©terbebetten, 

©nabe auf bem Jpod)gend)t ! 
Stud) bie Jobten fatten leben ! 

©ruber, trinft unb fttmmet etnt 
Slflen ©tinbern fotX oetgeben, 

Unb bte Jpbfle nidjt mctyr fein I 

£ f> o r. 

gine fiettre 2Tbfd)tebgftunbe! 

©ii§en ©d)faf im fei&entud)! 

3?ruber — einen fan ft en Srprud) 
5Iue bee &obtenrid)ter2 SDtunbei 



58 

Chorus. 

He whom Seraphs worship ever, 
Whom the stars praise as they roll, 
Yes — to Him now drain the bowl — 

Mortal eye can see Him never ! 

Courage, ne'er by sorrow broken ! 

Aid where tears of virtue flow ! 
Faith to keep each promise spoken ! 

Truth alike to friend and foe ! 
'Neath kings' frowns a manly spirit ! — 

Brethren, noble is the prize — 
Honor due to every merit I 

Death to all the brood of lies I 

Chorus. 
Draw the sacred circle closer ! 
By this bright wine plight your troth 
To be faithful to your oath ! 
Swear it by the Star-Disposer I* 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



* In the Thalia, where this poem originally appeared, it concludes 
with the following strophe : 

Safety from the Tyrant's power ! 

Mercy e'en to traitors base ! 
Hope in death's last solemn hour! 

Pardon when before His face ! 
Lo, the dead shall rise to Heaven ! 

Brethren, hail the blest decree: 
Ev'ry sin shall be forgiven, 

Hell forever cease to be ! 

Chorus. 
When the golden bowl is broken, 

Gentle sleep within the tomb ! 

Brethren, may a gracious doom 
By the Judge of Man be spoken ! 



J 



59 
pie ttttuGernuu&fidje gtfoffe. 

Sftacf) einem afteren Sifter. 

@ie fommt — fie fommt, beg TOtagg ftolae gtotte, 

2)ag SBeltmeer nummert wnter ifyr, 
Sftit ^ettenfiang nnb einem nenen ®otte 

Unb tanfenb Donnern naljt fie bir — 
(Sin fcfyttnmmenb ipeer fnrcfytfiarer Gutabeffen 

(Der Ocean fat) itjreggletcfyett nie) 

Uttubemunblidj nennt ntan fte, 
3tefyt fie eint)er anf ben erfd)rocfnen SSeHen; 

©en (lolgcn Sftamen i&eUjt 

£)er (Scfyretfen, ben fte um ftdj fpeit 
9ft it majeftattfc^ ftitlem ©djritte 

£ragt feine Saft ber ^itternbe Sfteptnn; 
SBeltnntergang in it)rer Wlittt, 

Sftatyt fie fyeran, nnb atte ©titrme rnfjn- 

©tr gegenitber ftetjt fte ba, 
©litcffePge 3nfel — iperrfckrin ber Sfteere, 
£)ir broken biefe ©attionent^eere, 

©rofjtjergtge ^Britannia! 
$Belj beinem fretgeoornen 5SoIfc! 
©a ftetjt fie, eine metterfcfymangre 2BoT&» 
2Ber §at bag fyolje ^leinob bir errnngen, 

£)ag jn ber Sanber gitrftin bid) gemac^t? 
£aft bn ntdjt feXB ft, son ftolgen ^imigen ge^tonngett, 

£)er $ftetd)ggefe£e toetfefteg erbadjt? 
3)ag g r o f e 23 1 a 1 1, bag beine $omge $n SSiirgeW; 

3n ^itrften beine 33itrger mad)t! 

£)er @egel ftot^e £)6ermad)t, 
£aft bn fte ntdjt »on SWittionen SBttrgern 

Srftritten in ber 2Gafferfd)ladjt? 



59 
THE INVINCIBLE FLEET. 

AFTER AN OLDER POET. 

• 

She comes, proud navy of the southern ocean — 

Beneath her foams the world-wide sea : 
With clank of chains, and forms of strange devotion, 

And thousand thunders, lo ! she nears to thee — 
A floating host of citadels tremendous — [swell. 

Ne'er did the floods beneath so huge a monster 
They call her name—" In vincible." 

O'er the affrighted waves she moves stupendous. 
Terror, that round her waits, 
The proud name consecrates. 
"With silent sweep, majestic flowing, 

Old Neptune trembling doth his burthen bear : 
She, in her womb the World's destruction stowing, 

While storms are lulled around, moves on in full 
career. 

Thrice happ}^ Isle — Queen of the Sea ! [ing — 

There stands she now, thy bulwarks' strength oppos- 

Magnanimous Britannia !— thee [ing. 

They threat — these galleon squadrons round thee clos- 
Woe to thy free-born sons ! Descending 
Swift on their heads, bursts the big cloud impending. 
Who hath that noblest jewel for thee wrested, 

That o'er the nations sets thy conquering throne ? 
Say, was it not thyself the prize contested, 

From haughty monarchs greatly won, 
The wisest statute-law beneath the sun ? — [raises, 
That great Land-charter which to Kings thy Burghers 

To burghers lowers the regal height — 

And didst thou not thy navy's right [praises, 

From bloody pirate bands, amidst the world's loud 

Achieve in glorious Ocean fight ? 



60 



SGem banff* bu fie — errottjer, Golfer btefer (£rbe — 
2Bem fonft, al* beinem ®eijl unb beittem <3cfyn?erte? 

Unglitcffidje — Mid §tn auf biefc feuertoerfenben Sto* 

Zojfen, 

S3Hdf §ttt unb atjne betnes SRuI)me3 gall! 

33ang fcfyaut auf btdj ber (Srbenbatf, 
Unb aller freten banner Bergen fcfylagen, 
Unb attc guten, f^onen Seelen flagen 

SHjeUnetymenb betneS 3tut)mt$ $aU. 

©ott, ber Sltfmadjt'ge, fafj Ijerafc, 
©a§ beinem getnbes ftol^e £on?enfIaggen toefjen, 

<2>al) brofyenb offen betn gemtffes ®rab — 
©oil, fpra$ er, foil metn Albion »erge§en, 

(Srlofdjen meiner ipelben <3tamm, 

£)er Unterbtiitfung letter gelfenbamm 
Bufammenfturgen, bie S^rannentoe^re 
SBermdfytet fetn son biefer ipemtfpare? 

9Me, rief er, foil ber greifyeit 5>arabte3, 
£)er Sftenfcfyenmitrbe frarfer <5$trm oerfcfynunben! 

©otf, ber MmatyVQt, Mies, 
Unb bie SIrmaba flog na$ alien SBinben* 

S)te jtoet Ie|ten Skrfe ftnb etne Slnfptelung auf Me aftetatu'e, toeldje Sfi- 
fafcetl) jum Slnbenfen ibreS <5iege3 fitagen Ite§. ©» tntrt- auf berfelben etne 
glotte oorgeftettt, n>ei*e im Sturm unterge^t, mit t>er fceftfcei&enen Snf^rift: 
Afflavit Deus et dissipati sunt. 



J>er <iampf. 



9Mn, langer toerb' ify biefen $ampf nid)t fampfen, 

£)en SRiefcnfampf ber *PfItd)t 
^annft bu be$ ^erjenS glammentrteo ntc^t bampfen, 

©o forbve, £ugenb, biefeS Dpfer ntcfyt* 



60 

Who gave it thee ?— Blush, nations of the earth ! — 
Who else, but thy brave spirit, and thy good sword's 
worth ? 

Unhappy ! — these colossal forms fire-sleeting 
Survey— and thence presage thy glory's fall ! 
Gazes in sad suspense the earthly ball — 

For thee the hearts of all free men are beating ; 

Whilst all that's good and beauteous mourns thy 
fleeting 
Splendors, and partakes thy funeral. 

But the Almighty God looked down — 
Saw where thy foe's proud lion banners floated — 

He saw thy yawning grave wide open frown. 
"And shall my Albion (spake he) fall devoted ? — ■ 

My line of heroes thus expire ? 

The last rock-barrier 'gainst oppression dire . 
At once in ruins fall — the strong defence 
That guards this Hemisphere be banished hence ? 

Ne'er be this Freedom's paradise o'erthrown — 
This refuge tower of Human Virtue shattered !" 

— The Almighty God hath blown — 
And lo ! to all the winds the Armada scattered I* 
John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 

* These last two lines refer to the medal struck by Queen Elizabeth 
to commemorate the overthrow of the Armada, on which a fleet is 
represented sinking in a storm, with the following modest inscription : 
Afflavit Deus, et dissipati sunt. 



THE CONFLICT. 

No longer will I fight this conflict weary, 
The giant fight that Duty bids me wage ; 

Why, Virtue, ask a sacrifice so dreary, 
If thou my bosom's pangs canst not assuage ? 



61 

©efdjworen tjaV tdj'S, ja, id) $aV3 gefdjworen, 

9ft idj fetfrjt sn Banbtgem 
£ter ift betn Gretna, er fei auf ewig mir aerloren! 

Sftimm tt)n auriid nnb lag mid) fiinbigen* 

3errtffen fet, was wir fcebnngen IjaBen! 

©ie Itefct mid) — betne $rone fet serfdjerat! 
©litdfelig, wer, in 2£onnerrnnfeitljeit Begrafcen, 

@o letd)t, wie id), ten ttefen gatf ijerfdjmerjtl 

@ie ftetjt ben SGurm an metner 3ngenb S31nme nagen 

Unb metnen Sen] enif(oI)n, 
S5cwunbert ftitt mem J)elbenmutl)tge3 (Sntfagen, 

Unb grogmut^ott fcefdjliejjt fie metnen Sotyiw 

5!ftifjtrane, fdjone (Seete, biefer Cntgelgitte! 

9ft em Sftttleib waff net mm SSer&redjen midj* 
©t&t'S in be6 SeBenS nnetmefjlicfyem ©efciete, 

(3ibV$ etnen anbern, fdjonern So^tt, al$ bidj? 

TO bas SSer&redjen, bas tdj ewig flte^en woUte? 

£9rannifd)e<? (3e\&idl 
£)er emg'ge 8of)n, ber meine Sngenb kronen foffte, 

3ft metner £ngenb letter 2mgenblid! 



"glertgnaitotr. 

2mdj id) war m 5lr!abten gefcoren, 

%u&) mix §at bte *ftatur 
2In meiner SSiege $renbe mgefdjworen; 
2lnc^ id) war in 2Irfabten geftoven, 

£)odj £f)ranen gab ber furae 2en$ mir nnr* 



61 

I've sworn it, — yes ! I solemnly have sworn it, — 
Upon my passions to impose a rein ; 

Behold thy garland ! — yet, tho' long I've worn it, 
Take it back now, and let me sin again ! 

Dissolved be every vow between us spoken — 
She loves me ! — What is now thy crown to me ? 

Happy the man who, wrapped in bliss unbroken, 
His deep, deep fail can view so tranquilly ! 

She sees the worm my youthful bloom assailing, 
She sees my days in sorrow fleeting on ; 

And my heroic efforts gently hailing, 
Awards the prize she deems me to have won. 

Fair soul ! mistrust this virtue angel-seeming, 
For on to crime thy pity hurries me ; 

In the unbounded realms where life is beaming, 
Is there another, fairer prize than thee ? 

Or than that sin so dreaded by my spirit ? — 

Oh cruel, all-relentless tyranny ! 
The only prize my virtue e'er can merit 

Must, in the moment, see that virtue die ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring, 



KESIGNATION, 

And I, too, was amidst Arcadia born, 

And Nature seemed to woo me ; 
And to my cradle such sweet joys were sworn: 
And I, too, was amidst Arcadia born, 

Yet the short spring gave only tears unto me ! 
15 



62 

£)e£ SeBeng Wax Blitfjt einmal unb iti$t toteber, 

$ttr l)at er aBgeBliifyt 
£)er ftttte ®ott — o ttetner, tneitte 23 ruber — 
£>er ftille (S5ott taucfyt meine gacfel nieber, 

Unb bie ©rfcfyeinung fltefjt 

£>a (ley idj fdjon auf beiner ftnftem Srittfe, 

gurdjtBare (Stmgfeit 
(Smpfange meinen $ollmad)tBrtef jum ®fit(fe! 
3$ Brings ifyn unerBrocfyen bir guritcfe, 

3dj tteig nic^t^ son ©tittffeligfeit 

SSor beinem Ztjvan ertjeB' ify meine $tage, 

$erf)u(lte SFttc^terin* 
2Iuf jenem ©tern ging eine fro^e <Sage, 
2)u tfyroneft I)ter mil beg (Seriates SBage 

Unb nenneft bict) ^ergelteruu 

£ter, fprtdjt man, tuarten ©djretfen auf ben 23ofen, 

Unb grenben auf ben S^ebli^en* 
£)eg ^ergeng ^riimmen merbeft bu entBlofjen, 
£)er $orftd)t £Tldt^feI merbeft bu mtr tofen, 

Unb #iedjnung fatten mit bem Seibenben* 

£ter offne ft$ bie ipeimatf) bem SerBannten, 

£ier enbtge beg £)ulberg ©ornenBa^m 
(gin ©otterftnb, bag ftemir $3at)rf)eit nannten, 
£)ie 9fteiften flo^en, SCenige nur fannten, 
Jpielt meineg £eBeng rafdjen 3^9^ an* 

nS&i WW ^ to einem anbern SeBen, 

@HB beine 3ugenb mir! 
Sfticfytg faun tdj bir aU biefe SBeifung geBen*" 
3d) natym bie S3eifung auf bag anbre Men, 

Unb meiner 3ugenb greuben gaB icfy i^r* 



62 

Life but one blooming holiday can keep — 

For me the bloom is fled ; 
The silent Genius of the darker Sleep 
Turns down my torch— and weep, my brethren, 
weep — 

Weep, for the light is dead ! 

Upon thy bridge the shadows round me press, 

O dread Eternity ! 
And I have known no moment that can bless ; — 
Take back this letter meant for Happiness — 

The seal 's unbroken— see ! 

Before thee, Judge, whose eyes the dark-spun vail 

Conceals, my murmur came ; 
On this our orb a glad belief prevails, 
That thine the earthly sceptre and the scales — 

Requtter is thy name. 

Terrors, they say, thou dost for Vice prepare, 

And joys the good shall know ; 
Thou canst the heart through ail its windings bare ; 
Thou canst the riddle of our fate declare, 

And keep account with Woe. 

With thee a home smiles for the exiled one — 

There ends the thorny strife. 
Unto my sight a godlike vision won, 
Called Truth (few know her, and the many shun), 

And checked the reins of life. 

"I will repay thee in the world to be — 

Give thou to me thy youth ; 
Naught save this surety can I grant to thee I" 
I heard, and, trusting in the world to be, 

Gave my young joys to Truth. 



63 



„®ib mir bas SBeifc, fo tf)ener beinem ^erjen, 

©ib beine Sanra mir! 
3enfeit3 ber ©rafter rondjern beine ©Emergen," — 
3$ rt§ fie Bhttenb au$ bem ionnben ^ergeit, 

Uub roeinte iant, nnb gab fie i^r* 

„!Dte @cbnIboerfd)reionng lautet an bie Sobten," 

£obntadjelte bie SBelt; 
,£)ie Sitgnertn, gebungett son ©efpoten, 
ipat fitr tie 2Sal)r§ett ©fatten bir geooten, 

£)n Btft nicfyt met)r, 'n>enn biefer ©d)cin oerfaffL" 

gredj roi^ette ba<3 ©cfytangenfyeer ber ©potter: 

„$or einem 23al)tt, beit nnr Serjafymng toeirjt, 
©rgitterft bit? $3a» [often beine ©otter, 
2)e» franfen SBettptanS fdjlau erbad)te better, 
£)ie Sftenfdjennu^ be£ fDZenfc^eit S^otfyonrft Iet§t?" 

„2£a3 l)eigt bie 3nfimft, bie uns ©raber becfen? 

£>ie Sioigfeit, mit ber bn eitel prang jt? < 
SJjrnjurfcig nnr, roeit JpMejt fie oerft'den, 
£)er 3Uefenfdjatten nnfrer eignen ©d) reef en 

3m ^o^Ien ©piegel ber ©ennjfengangjt." 

„(£tn Sitgenoilb leoenbtger ©eftalten, 

Die 5ftumie ber 3tit, 
SSom-SBalfamgeijT: ber £ off nun a, in ben fatten 
33e§aufungen be6 ©rabes f)tngef)a(ten, 

2)a0 nennt bein gteberroafyn Utffterolicfyfeit?'' 

giir £>ojfnnngen — SSerroefung ftraft \k Siigen — 

©abft bn gemiffe ©titer t)in? 
©edjstaufenD 3^re §at ber Slob gefefymiegen, 
Ram je ein 2eid)nam au$ ber ©rnft gefttegen, 

£)er sibling t^cit oon ber SSergetterin?" — 



63 

" Give me thy Laura, dearest to thy heart, 

And I, beyond the grave, 
Will tenfold pay thee every pang to part." 
I tore her bleeding from the wounded heart, 

And wept aloud— and gave. 

Laughed out the world — "The bond thou trustest to 

Is drawn upon the Dead. 
The tool of despots palmed upon thy view 
A shade, and called it Truth— *this bond is due 

The day thy days are sped. " 

" Tremblest thou," hissed the serpent brood in scorn, 

' ' Before the vain deceit ? 
Made holy by convention, stale and worn, 
Gods of Man's need and of Man's cunning born — 

The sick world's solemn cheat ? 

u What is this Future underneath the stone 

Which earth-born never saw ? 
Why is it reverenced, but because unknown ? 
A shadow on the glass of Conscience thrown 

By our own craven awe. — 

" Life's counterfeit, by Hope the fair deceiver, 

Embalmed, with death to lie ! 
Time's bloodless mummy, niched in tombs forever, 
Which the crazed fancy of delirious fever 

Calls ' Immortality ! ' 

" Giv'st thou sure joy for hope that disappears 

Into corrupted mold ? 
Death has been silent for six thousand years ; 
Nor from the grave one corpse to living ears 

OftheKequitertold." 

• See Note e. 



64 

3$ fatj bte 3«t nadj beinen Ufern fltegen, 

£)te blitfyenbe 9latnr 
23lieb Winter tfyr, ein seller Setdjnam, liegen, 
$etn £obter tarn cms feiner ©ruft geftiegen, 

Unb feft ijertrant' id) auf ben ©otterfd)tt?ur* 

21E meinc greuben fyab 1 id) bir gefcfytadjtet, 
3e£t toetf id) mii^ oor beinen 3itd)tertI)ron. 

£)er SDfonge ©pott $ab' id) pefyer$t t>erad)tet, 

9tur beine ©titer ^aV id) grog gead)tet, 
2Sergeiterin, id) forfcre meinen Sofyn* 

„Wlit gleidjer Stebe Iteb' tdj meine ^inber!" 

Sfttef unftcfytbar ein ©eniu^ 
„3»ci 5Mumen," rief er, „prt eS, 9ftenfdjentmber, 
3wei 231umen bliifyen fair ben meifen gtnber, 

(Sie ^etgen ^offnung unb ©en up* 

„2Ber biefer S31umen etne brad), begetjre 

2)ie anbre ©d)tx>efter nid)t. 
©eniefe, mer nid)t giauben fann* £)ie £et)re 
3ft ettug, ttie bte SBelt 2Ber giauben faun, entbe^re! 

Die 2£e(tgef$id)te ift ba3 2Bettgertd)t 

„£)u f)aft gel) of ft, bein 2ofyn ift abgetragen, 

©ein ©iaube toax bein ^ugercogneS ©lucf* 
£)u fonnteft beine ££ktfen fragen, 
2Ba3 man son ber Minute auegefdjlagen, 
®ibt feine Snugfeit gurud" 



3>ie golfer ^riedienfan^. 

£>a i^r nod) bie fdjone 2$Mt regieret, 
2tn ber greube letcfytem ©angeibanb 
©eltge ©efd)led)ter nod) gefiifyret, 
©c^bne SBefeu auti bent Babellanb! 



64 

I saw Time flying to thy promised shore ; 

Behind him, bloomless now, 
Nature lay corpse-like ;— silent, as of yore, 
Was Death — and still my trustful soul the more 

Clung to thy solemn vow.— 

Judge !— all my joys to thee did I resign, 

All that did most delight me ; 
And now I kneel ;— man's scorn I scorned ; — thy shrine 
Have I adored ; — Thee only held divine ; — 

Requiter, now requite me ! 

"For all my sons an equal love I know, 

And equal each condition," 
Answered an unseen Genius — " See below, 
Two flowers, for all who rightly seek them, blow — 

The Hope and the Fruition. 

"He who has plucked the one, resigned must see 

The sister's forfeit bloom : 
Let Unbelief enjoy — Belief must be 
All to the chooser ; — the world's history 

Is the world's judgment doom. 

" Thou hast had Hope— in thy belief thy prize — 

Thy bliss was centered in it : 
Thou might'st have learned, hadst thou but asked the 

wise, 
That all Eternity ne'er resupplies, 

The sum struck from the minute !" 

Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. 



THE GODS OF GKEECE. 
"Whilst the smiling Earth ye governed still, 

And with Rapture's soft and guiding hand 
Led the happy Nations at your will, 

Beauteous Beings from the Fable-land ! 



65 



2Id), ba ener $3onnebienft nod) gTan$te, 
23te gang anbers, anber3 wax es bal 
•Da man beine £empel nodj befran^te, 
SSeuitS Stmat^nfia! 

£>a ber JHcfytung ^auBertfc^e ipiille 
<Sicfy nodj Uebltd) urn bie 3$a$?$eii ioanb, 
S)urdj bie ©cfyopfmtg flog ba Sebensfiille, 
Unb »as nie empjtnben ioirb, empfanb, 
2ln ber Steoe SBufen ]k gn britcfen, 
©ao man l)5[)ern W&X ber 9?atnr, 
SlfleS nneS ben eingetoei^ten 23iicfen, 
2ltte3 eine<3 (Dotted ©pm\ 

23 o jejjt nut, t»ic unfre SBeifen fagen, 

(Seelenios etn fteuerbatf fid) orel)t, 
£enfte ^amai$ feinen golbnen ££agen 
£eltoo in ftiEer ^lajeftat, 
Diefc £p§en fiillten Dreaben, 
Sine ©rpas lebt' in jenem 23anm, 
2ln3 oen Urnen liebiid^er 9tajaben 
©prang ber ©trome ©Uberfdjaum* 

3ener Sorbeer toanb ftdj einji um ipilfe, 
XantaU Softer fd)ioeigt in biefem ©teitt, 
©prinr $iage tout' am jenem ©djilfe, 
§)v)ilomeIa$ <Btymtx$ au$ biefem Jpauu 
3ener 23ad) empjtng 2)e_mcter$ 3^**/ 
S)ie fte nm $erfept)onen getoeint, 
Unb oon biefem Jpiigel rtef Sptijerc 
2ict), nmfonft! bem jd)onen gtenno* 

3n £eufaIton3 ©efdj(ed)te ftiegen 
Jamais nod) bie ^immiifd;en i;erab; 

emitters fammtl. SQerfe. I. 5 



65 

"Whilst your blissful worship smiled around, 
Ah ! how diff'rent was it in that day I 

"When the people still thy temples crowned, 
Yenus Amathusia ! 



When the magic veil of Poesy 
' Still round Truth entwined its loving chain- 
Through creation poured Life's fulness free, 

Things then felt, which ne'er can feel again. 
Then to press her 'gainst the breast of Love, 

They on Nature nobler power bestowed, — 
All, to eyes enlightened from above, 

Of a God the traces showed. 

There, where now, as we're by Sages told, 
Whirls on high a soul-less fiery ball, 

Helios guided then his car of gold, 
. In his silent majesty, o'er all. 

Oreads then these heights around us filled, 
Then a Dryad dwelt in yonder tree, 

From the Urn of loving Naiads rilled 
Silver streamlets foamingly. 

Yonder Laurel once imploring wound, 

Tantal's daughter slumbers in this stone ; 
From yon rush rose Syrinx' mournful sound, 

From this thicket, Philomela's moan. 
Yonder brook Demeter's tears received, 

That she wept for her Persephone, 
From this hill, of her loved friend bereaved, 

Cried Cythera, fruitlessly ! 

To Deucalion's race from realms of air 
Then the great Immortals still came down ; 



6Q 



tyqxxfyas fcfjone Zofytex %u fteftegen, 
9laf)m ter £eio ©o§n ten £trtenfta6 
3nnfd)en Sftenfdjen, (S5ottern unt £>eroen 
^nitpfte 5Imor einen fcfyonen Sunt), 
©ter&lidje mit ®ottern unt £eroen 
£ultigten in 2lmat()unt* 

S^tnftrer (Stnfl unt trauriges (Sntfagen 
2Bar auS eurem fyeitern £)tenft uerbannt; 
©(iicfftdj fottren aHe ^er^en fd)lagen, 
2)enn eucfy'war ter ©ludlid)e sertr-antt 
2)amal3 toav nic^t^ fyeilig, ate bas ©djone, 
Reiner greute fcfyamte ftdj ter ©ort, 
2Bo tie feufcfy erri3tt)ente (Samone, 
&£o tie ©ragte gebot 

(Sure Xempel lacfyten gletdj ^alaflen, 
(£ucfy 5oer^errIic^te fcaa £elfcenfptel 
5ln te3 3ftfymu$ fronenreicfyen geften, 
Vint tie 3i5agen tonnerten gum 3tek 
©cfyon gefcfyiungne, feelensolie Zanft 
Sixtizttn urn ten praugenten 2Utar, 
Sure ©cfyldfe fdjmiitften ^iege^rdn^e, 
kronen euer tuftent £aar. 

£>as (£$oe muntrer 5£§9rfugfdj winger 
Unt ter $>antfyer prdd)tige$ ©efpann 
SMfceten ten grofjen greutekinger, 
gaun unX) t&atyx tautnetn ifym ooran; 
Urn tf)n fpringen rafente Sftdnafcen, 
3fyre Xdn^e lo&en feinen 2£ein, 
Unt fce$ ^3irtl)e^ traune SBangen laben 
Suftig ju tern 23ed)er euu 



6Q 

And to vanquish Pyrrha's daughter fair, 
Then a shepherd's staff took Leto's son. 

Then 'tween Heroes, Deities, and Men, 
Was a beauteous bond by Eros twined, 

And with Deities and Heroes then 
Knelt in Cyprus' Isle, mankind. 

Gloomy sternness and denial sad 

Ne'er were in your service blest descried ; 
Each heart throbbed then with emotions glad, 

For the Happy were with you allied. 
Nothing then was Holy, save the Fair ; 

Of no rapture was the God ashamed, 
When the modest Muse was blushing there, 

When their sway the Graces claimed ! 



Palace-like, then smiled your Temples all, 

Ye were honored in the hero-sport 
At the Isthmus' crown-clad festival, 

And the goal the thund'ring chariots sought. 
Beauteous dances that a Spirit breathed 

Circled round your altars bright and fair ; 
Round your brows the crown of triumph wreathed, 

Garlands graced your fragrant hair. 

Thyrsus-swingers' loud Evoe then, 

And the panther-team that shone afar, 
Welcomed Him who Rapture brought to men ; 

Fauns and Satyrs reeled before his car ! 
Round him sprang the Maenads' raving crew, 

While their dances showed his wine's great worth, 
And the Host's fail cheeks of tawny hue 

Pointed to the cup with mirth. 



67 



SDamalg trat fein graj^ltdjeg ©ertppe 
23or tag 25ett beg ©terbenben, Sin $up 
5^al)m bag Iejjjte Seoen son ber Sippe, 
(Seine gacfel fenft 1 ein OetiiuS* 
©eibft beg Drfug ftrenge 2tid)terttage 
£ie(t ber (Snfel etncr ©terblic&en, 
Unb beg &l)raferg feelcnooile Ullage 
Slutjxtt bie (Srfttttyetu 

©eine grewben traf ber froI)e ©fatten 
3ft SlpjtenS £ainen toicber an, 
£rene Siebe faub ben trenen ©atten, 
Unb ber SBagenlenfer fcine 33afyn; 
Stag' ©piel tont bie getsoljnten £ieber, 
3n Sttcefteng Slrme jtnft 2lbmet, 
©etnen greunb erlennt Drefteg wieber, 
©etne SPfeiie $H)U ottet 

.Ipo^re $retfe ftarften ba ben dinger 
Sluf ber Sngenb arbeitoofter 23al)n; 
©rofer Zfyattn tyerriidje ^otlbrtnger 
^limmten 3U ben ©eltgen t)tnan» 
SSor bent SBieberforberer ber £obten 
9?eigte fid) ber ©otter [title ©d)aar; 
£)urd) bit %lufym lend)tet bent spiloten 
2>om Dtymp bag 3^^ing^paar» 

©d)one SOelt, n?o bift bu? $e$re tuteber, 
£olbeg 53lutt)ena(ter ber 9?atnr! 
2Id), nnr in bent geeniaub ber £ieber 
Stbt nod) betne fabelfyafte ©pnr. 
Sfoggejrorben tranert la^ ©eftlbe, 
^veine ©ott^ett geigt fid) meittem 23licf, 



67 



In those days, before the bed of Death 

Stood no ghastly form. Then took away 
From the lips a kiss the parting breath, 

And a Genius quenched his torch's ray. 
Even Orcus' rigid judgment scales 

Ity a Mortal's offspring once were, held, 
And the Thracian's spirit-breathing wails 

E'en the angry Furies quelled. 

Once again within Elysium's grove 

Met the happy Shade his joys so dear ; 
Lover faithful found his faithful Love, 

And his path regained the charioteer ; 
Linus' lute gave back each wonted strain, 

Admet clasped Alcestis to his heart, 
And Orestes found his friend again, 

Philoctetes found his dart. 



Nobler prizes then the wrestler crowned, 

Who the arduous path of Virtue pressed ; 
Glorious workers then of deeds renowned 

Clambered up to join the Spirits blest. 
All the Band of silent Gods the while 

Bowed to Him who summoned back the Dead ; 
From Olympus' height the twin-stars' smile 

O'er the waves the Pilot led. 

Beauteous "World, where art thou gone ? Oh, thou, 
Nature's blooming youth, return once more ! 

Ah, but in Song's fairy region now 
Lives thy fabled trace so dear of yore ! 

Cold and perished, sorrow now the plains, 
Not one Godhead greets my longing sight ; 



68 

2Idj, son jenem leBenwarmeti SSilbe 

SStieo ter <Sd)atten nnr anritd 

2I(te jene 331iit()en ftnb gefaften 
*Bon te3 9?orte3 f$auerlid)cm SBe^n; 
Sin en ^n. oereicfyern nnter alien, 
SDhtfjte tiefe ©otterrcelt oergetm. 
Sraurig fnd)' id) an tent ©ternenftogen, 
2M&, ©eiene, ftnb' id) tort nid)t mefyr; 
£>nrcr; Me Waiter ruf td), tnrct) tie SSogett, 
21$, fie nneterfyallen leer! 

Unoenmfjt ter ^renten, tie jte fd)enfet, 
9cie ent^iidt oon ifjrer ^)errli$feit, 
9?ie geirat)r tey-@eifte£, ter fie lenfet, 
(SePger nie tnrd) nteine (geligfeit, 
gut)Uoe f el b ft fitr ityreS ^iinftler^ ®f)re, 
©tetd) tern totten ©djiag ter $entelnt)r. 
£)ient fie fnednifdj tern ©efej? t>et (Bcfyroere, 
S)ie entgotterte 9?atnr. 

Sftorgen nueter neu ftdj gn entfttnten, 
SBixt)it fie fyutt fid) \b>x eigne* ©rat, 
Unt an enug gleid)er Spintel nu'nten 
(£id) son fclbft tie Sftonte anf unt ao* 
SRitfiig feljrten gn tern Did)terlante 
£eim tie ©otter, nnnit£ einer 2Belt, 
£)te, entn*ad)fen U)rem ©angelbante, 
©id) tnrd) eignes ©djroeben fyatt. 

3a, fie fe^rten r)eim, nnt atle3 (Sdjone, 
Me» £o1)e nabmen fie ntit fort, 
Slile garben, atfe £ebenetone, 
Unt un$ blub nwr ta6 entfeelte SBort 



\ 



76 

Even in fashion's native city, 

She is exposed for sale in every shop, 

And may be handled (more's the pity !) 

By every pedant, every silly fop 

On board the packet, on the coach's top, — 

Beneath the cockney's stare must patient be, 

And, as each dirty critic may desire, 

Must walk on flowers or coals of fire 

To the Pantheon or the pillory. 

A Leipzig fellow — may the rascal meet his due ! — 

As of a fortress, takes her topographic measure, 

And parts for sale he offers to the public view, 

Which I alone should know about, had I my pleasure ! 

Thy wife, — thanks to the canon law, 'tis true, — 
The name of consort holds ail-duly prized ; 
She knows its meaning and its practice too. 
As Ninon's husband I'm but recognized. 
Thou'rt grieved that at the Paro-table, in the Pit, 
When thou appear'st, each tongue exerts its wit ? 
Oh, happy man ! How fortunate is he 
Who can say that I Good brother, as for me, 
A whey-cure purchased me, at length, the honor 
At her left side to humbly wait upoo her. 
Me no one sees, and every look is thrown 
Upon my haughty spouse alone. 

The veil of night is scarcely rent, 

When, lo ! the staircase swarms with blue and yellow 

coats, 
With unpaid letters, packages, and notes, 
To " The Illustrious Lady " sent. 
How sweet her sleep ! — to wake her though 's my duty : 
" Madam, the last Berlin and Jena News !" 
Sudden her eyelids opes the sleeping Beauty : 



77 



3§r crjler SSItd fatft auf ^Recenjtonen* 

Das fd)bne blaue 2luge — m i r 

jftid)t einen Slid ! — burdjirrt ein etenbeS papier, 

(Saut fyort man in ber ^inbcrftube treinen) 

Sie tegt e» enblid) toeg, unb fragt na§ il)ren Clemen. 

£)te toilette ttartet febon, 
SDodj tyalbe 33ticfe nur begtaicfert ttyren ©piegel* 
Sin miirrifd) nngetuibtg :Drot)n 
©ibt ber erfdjrotfnen 3°f e 5iugel«. 
£on ifyrem ^Pu£tifd) finb bie ©ragteti cntflo^n, 
Unb an ber ©telle goiter 2lmorinen 
(Eiefyt man Srinnpen ben £odenbau bebienen, 

(Earrojfen raffeln je|t tyeran, 
Unb 9)iietblafaien fprtngen »on ben Xritten, 
!Dem biiftensen 5Ibbe, bem Sfttifygbawn, bem Written, 
SDer — nur nidjts DeutfcfyeS lefen tann, 
©rofing unb Gompagnie, bem 3** SBunbcrmann 
©e$or bei ber 23eritt)mten 3U erbittem 
Sin Ding, ba3 bemnt^ootl fid) in bie Scfe britcft 
Unb Sfymann tyeijjt, ttnrb oorneljm angebtidu 
£ier barf Ujr — toirb bcin ipaucfreunb fo »iel tragen? 
2)er biimmfte gat, ber armfte SSidjt, 
2Bic fefyr cr fie bercunbre, fagen; 
Unb barftf sor meinem 2Ingeftd)t 1 
3d) ftefy babei, unb, will id) artig tyeifen, 
SDfcujj id) tfyn Bitten, mitgufreifeit. 

S3ei Safet, greunb, Beginnt erft metnc 5ft ot§ 
£>a gel;t e$ itbet meine glafdjen! 
9ft it SSeinen son Surgunb, ^k mix ber 2lr3t serbot, 
SWttfj id) bie jteljiett tfcrer Sober tt>afd)en* 
SOton fd)wer oerbienter SBiffcn 23rob 
2£trb t;ungriger &tf)maxo§ex 23eute; 



77 

The first thing that they meet are — the Reviews. 
Her fair blue eye for me has not one look, 
A trump' ry Paper 's all that it can brook. 
Soon from the nursery comes a roaring cry, 
And, asking for her little ones, she lays it by. 

Her dressing-table now is set, 

But half-looks only on her glass she flings ; 

A grumbling and impatient threat 

To her affrighted Maid gives wings. 

The Graces all have fled from her toilette, 

And in the place of Cupids young and fair, 

Furies attend her now to dress her hair. 

The sound of carriage- wheels has now begun, 

And nimble lacqueys from behind dismount, 

To crave an audience with the Famous One : 

First for the scented Abbe, then the Count, 

Or Englishman, who German scorns to know, 

Grossing and Son, or Messrs. So and So. 

A thing that in the corner meekly takes its place, — 

A Husband called, — is stared at in the face. 

Here may the dullest fool, the poorest wight, 

(And this thy rival surely would not do,) 

Express his admiration at her sight, — 

Express it in my presence, too ! 

And I, for fear of being thought uncivil, 

Must beg he'll stop to dine — (the devil !) 

At table. Friend, begins my misery, 
Quickly each flask's contents are dried ! 
"With Burguady, that Doctors strictly keep from me, 
Her flatterers' throats I needs must keep supplied. 
The meat that I so hardly earned at first 
Her hungry parasites' lean-paunches lines; 
17 



•D biefe Tetbtge, sertnalebette 
U n ft e r B I i dj I e i 1 ift meineS ^terenfletnerS £ob ! 
£)en 23urm an atte ginger, toeldje brncfen ! 
2Ba», mem jl bit, fei mein £anf? (Sin Stc^fclju'dfctt, 
(Sin ?DZiertenfpteI, ein nngefcfylijfeneS 53ef(agen — 
grratfyft bn 1 S nicBt? O tdj oerfte^3 genan! 
2)a§ biefen SBrillant oon enter gran 
Sin folder §)aoian bason getragen* 

£)er grilling fommt 2Inf2Biefen nnb anf getbern 
©treut bie 9ktnr ben huntzn £eppi$ §in, 
£)ie 25Inmen lletben ftd) in angenetjme6 ©rim, 
2)ie Serine ftngt, e* lebt in alien SBatbern, 
— 3$r tjt ber gristing roonneteer* 
£)ie (Sangerin ber fiijjejien ©efitBte, 
£)er f$one ipain, ber 3 e «S^ unfrer ©piele, 
(Sagt iljrem £er^en je£t nicfcts me^r» 
2Me 9cacI)ttgaIIen fyabtn nidjt gelefen, 
Die SiUen Betonnbern nid)t. 
2)er atlgemetne 3u6elruf ber SSefen 
SBegeiftert fie — m einem ©mngebidjt. 
£)otf) netn! 2)ie 3al>r<?*eit ift fo fdjon — mm Sleifen* 
2Bie brdngenb soil mag'3 je£t in spyrmont fein! 
Shtdj tyb'rt man itberati ba* ^arlcBab preifen* 
£ufdj, fie ift bort — in jenen Bunten fflttyn, 
2$o DrbensBanber nnb £)oftorenfragen 
geleBrttaten alter 2trt, 
SSertraulid), mie in dfyaronS Mm, gepaart, 
3nr ©djau \i&) ftedert nnb ^n Sftarfte tragen, 
SSo, emgefd)i(ft oon fernen $ceilen, 
3erriffne Xngenben oon ifjren SBunben Ijeilem 
Dorr, grennb — o lerne bein SSerfyangmfj pretfen! 
Dort wanbelt meine gran nnb lajjjt mir fteBen SBaifetu 



• 78 

This fatal immortality accursed 

Has been the death of all my choicest wines — 

The plague take every hand that dares to print ! 

What, think'st thou, are my thanks ? A scornful hint, 

A gesture or a rude and vulgar sneer. — 

Dost guess the meaning ? Oh, 'tis very clear ! 

That any woman, who is such a jewel, 

Should be possessed by such a clown, seems cruel I 

The spring-time comes. O'er meadow and o'er plain 

Kature now throws her carpet, many-hued ; 

The flowers are clothed in smiling green again — 

Sweet sings the lark, with life teems every wood. 

— To her no joy does spring impart, 

The songstress of the feelings blest of love, 

The witness of our sports — the beauteous grove, — 

Appeal no longer to her heart. 

The nightingales have never learned to read — 

The lilies never to admire. 

The joyous choruses all creatures lead, 

In her — an Epigram inspire ! 

But no ! — The season 's fine for traveling — 

How very crowded Pyrmont now must be ! 

And all in Carlsbad's praises, too, agree. 

Presto, she's there ! — Amongst that honored ring, 

Where lords and sages are combining, — 

All kinds of folk, in fact, of note, 

Lovingly paired, as if in Charon's boat, 

All at one board together dining ; 

Where, from a distance thither lured, 

The bleeding virtues of their wounds are cured, 

And others — for temptation praying are, 

That they may ward it off with more eclat. 

There, Friend,— Oh, bless thy happier lot in life ! 

Leaving me seven young Orphans, — goes my wife. 



79 



D trteiner Stebe erftes glttterjaJjr! 
SSie fcfynetl — ad), ane fo fd)ne(I bift bu entflogen! 
Sin. 2Beib, it?ie femes ift, unb fetneS roar, 
Sftir oon be3 SftetgeS ©b'ttinnen ergogen, 
9JMt fyetlem ©eift, mit aufgetl)anem ©tntt 
Unb roeid)en, letcbt beroeglicfyen ©efitr;len — 
(Bo fal) id) fte, bte ^ergenfefjlerin, 
©leid) einem $ftaitag mir gur ©eite fpielertj 
£>as fiige SBort: 3cb; liebe bid)! 
©orad) aus bent l)ofben 21ugenpaare — 
©o fufyrf id) fte gum £raualtare, 
D roer mar glitdUd)er, aU tdjl 
Sin SBlutfyenfelb beneibensroertfjer 3aljre 
©a!) lad)enb mid) au$ biefem (Spiegel an; 
■sJJMn ipimmel roar mir aufgetl)an* 
©d)on far) id) fd)6ne ^inber urn midj fdjergen, 
3n ifyrem $rete bte (3d) on fte fie, 
£)ie ©litdHd^fte son alien fie, 
Unb mein burd) (Seelenfyarmome, 
£)urd) eroig feften 33unb ber ipergen, 
Unb nun erfdjeint — o mb'g 1 i§n ©ott oerbammen! 
Sin grofjer ffiann — ein fd)6ner ©etfh 
£)er gro£e 5D?ann tt)ut eine Zfyatl — unb reifjjt 
Sftein ^arten^au^ son £>tmmelreidj gufammen. 

28en {jab 1 id) nun? — 53eroeinen3roertl)er £auf$! 
Srroad)t aug biefem SBonneraufd), 
$3a3 ift oon biefem Sngel mir geblieben? 
Sin ft a r ! e r ©eift in einem g a r t e n £eib, 
Sin 3n?itter grotfd)en SJtann unb 2Beib, 
©ieid) ungefcfyidt gum £>errfd)en unb gum Steben; 
Sin $inb mit eineS ^Riefeu SBaffen, 
Sin SJUttelbing oon SBetfen unb oon Sljfenl 



79 

Oh, happy golden time of love's young day ! 

How soon, — alas, how soon thou'rt flown away ! 

A Woman who no equal has, or had — 

A very Goddess, in her graces glad, 

With radiant spirit, with a mind clear-sighted, 

And feelings soft, to pity open wide, — 

I saw her thus, while each heart she delighted, 

Like a fair May-day sporting by my side ; 

Her beauteous eyes appeared to falter 

The blissful words : I love thee well ! 

And so I led her to the altar ; 

My rapture then, Oh, who could tell ! 

Of enviable years a blooming field 

From out this mirror sweetly on me smiled ; 

A perfect heaven was then to me revealed. 

Soon round me sported many a lovely child ; 

Amongst them all, the fairest, She; 

The happiest, She, amid the throng ; 

And Mine by spirit-harmony, 

By heart-alliance, firm and strong. 

But now, — Oh, may he be accursed ! — appeared 

A Great Man, aye, a Shining Spirit, too. 

The Great Man did a deed ! — and overthrew 

The house of cards that I tow'rd heaven had reared. 



What have I now ? — What sad exchange is this ! — 

Awakened from my maddening dream of bliss, 

What of this Angel now remains to me ? 

A spirit strong within a body weak, 

Hermaphroditic, so to speak ; 

Alike unfit for love or mastery — 

A child, who with a giant's weapons rages, 

A cross between baboons and sages I 



80 



Urn fummerltc^ bcm ftarfern na&j$uhktym, 
2)cm fdjotteren ©4d)led)t entflol)n, 
iperabgeftur^t son cincm Zfyxon, 
©e$ ^teigeg tyeiligen 9)h;fterien enttoidjen, 
%u$ Sptfyereay g o 1 b n e m 23 u d) * gefiridjeu 
giir — einer 3eitung ©nabeulofyn* 



fitter juttgett §treiw5iti ins £faww£itdj. 

Sin bliiljenb ^inb, son ©ra^ien unb (Sd)er$ett 
Um^iipft, fo, greunbin, fpielt urn bid) t>ie SBeltj 
£>od) fo, trie fie ftcfy malt in betnem £er3en, 
3n beiner ©eele [gotten (Spiegel fallt, 
(So ift fie nicfyt 3)ie ftitten ipuibtgungen, 
£)te beines ^ei^enS 21bel bir errungen, 
3)ie SQunber, bie bu felbft getljan, 
£)ie dieift, bie bein X)afein i^m gegeben, 
2)ie redmeft bu fur ^tet^e btefem Seben, 
$iir fc^one 9ftenf$lid)feit un^ an* 
£)em fyolben 3 a wber nie entwei^ter 3ugenb, 
2)em Safi^man ber Unfcfyulb unb ber Xugenb, 
2>n mill id) fefyn, ber biefent tro£en famu 

grolj taumelft bu tm fiifjen Uebergaljlett 
£)er 231umen, bie um betne $fabe blufyn, 
£)er ©IM'lic^en, bie bu Qtmafyt, ber ©eelen, 
£)te bu gemonnen l)aft, baljin* 
(Set glitdlid) in bem lteblid)en 25etruge, 
Tut fiiir^e son be3 Sraumee' ftolgem glugc 
Sin traurigee 1 Srmad)en bidj Ijerab* 
2)en SSlumen gleic^, bie beine S3eete fd)mucfen, 



*©ptbtteg 53itd); fo frtrb in etrtt^en itaftenifd)en SftepitBlifen bag 95er- 
jetffymp geuanttt, in weldjejn bie a^eUgen gamilien einaefdjrieuen (ieljen. 



80 

One that has fled the fairer race, 
To gain among the stronger a vain place, 
Hurled headlong from a throne eternal, 
Flying the mysteries by Charm controlled — 
Erased from Cytherea's Book of Gold,* 
To gain a corner — in a Journal. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



YEKSES INSCRIBED IK A YOUNG LADY'S 

ALBUM. 
A blooming- Child, en wreathed 'mid sports and graces 
In circling dance — so plays the world round thee, 
Sweet friend ! — Yet, as thy heart its image traces, 
As mirrored on thy mind's translucent sea, 
Not such it is. The silent homage rendered 
To thy soul's worth, by holy thoughts engendered — 
The wonders that thy self hast wrought — 
The charms thy fancy sheds in such profusion 
O'er human life, with all its bright illusion, 
That live but in thy secret thought — 
The lovely witchery of untainted youth, 
The Talisman of Innocence and truth — 
I fain would see who sets those gifts at nought. 

Joyous you float along amidst abundance 
Of flowers, that crown your path with glad redun- 
dance, 
Those happy beings, who worship thee, their sun — 
Those souls thyself hast won. 
Be happy in the spell of love's own making ! — 
And ma}' no sad awaking 

Hurl headlong from thy dream's aspiring flight ; 
But, like the flowers thy gay parterres adorning, 



* The Golden Book is the Roll in which, in some of the Italian Re- 
publics, the names of noble families are inscribed. 



81 



(so ^flanje fie — nnr ben entfernten SBIicfcn! 
SSetracfyte fie, bodj pflitcfe fie ntdjt ak 
©efdj a [fen, nur tie Slugcn $n aergnugett, 
SBefl toerbett fie gu beinen gujpett lie^en* 

3e naf)er bir, je natyer invent ©raol 



§m ©HioBer 1788. 

£ap bn metn 2lnge n>e<fteji ^n btefem golbenen 2t$te, 

£a§ midj bein 2(et§er umflieftj 
£a£ idj ^n beinem 2fet(;er ^inanf einen Sftenfc^enolicf 

ttdjte 
2)er ifin ebler geniejjt; 
£ajj bn einen nnfterMic^cn ©eift, ber bidj, ©ottlic^e, 

benfet, 
Unb in bie fcMagenbe SSruft, 
©iitige, mix be3 ©^merjen^ tooftttfjattge ©armtng 

gefeknfet 
Unb bte Molmenbe Suft; 
£ap bn be3 ©eifte* ©ebanfen, be3 ^er^enS ®efnl)le ^u 

to it en 
STMr ein ©aitenfpiet gaojt, 
dtranse be* 3xnf)m3 nnb bao fotMenbe ©liicf beinen 

(folgeren (So^nen, 
9ftir ein ©attenfpiel gaojl; 
£a£ bent rrunfenen ©inn son ^ofyer Segetftrnng oe* 

flugelt, 
©dwer "tav Seoen ftdfe malt, 
©c^oner in ber £i$tnng ^i^ftall bte 28a§r§ett ft$ 

ftiegelt, 
speller bie bammernbe jhratylt: 
©rcfe ©ottin, bafiir foil, Ms bie ^arjen midj fobern, 

emitter! fammtt. SDerfe. L 6 



81 

So plant them, as the distant stars of morning, 
Not for the touch, but for thine eye's delight. 
Created, but to glad thee with their bloom, 
Soon would they wither at thy foot's rude scorning- 
The nearer thee, the nearer to their tomb. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



OCTOBEK, 1788.* 
That thou didst waken my eye to this wonderful 
light, golden bright, 
Letting me myst'ries explore ; 
That to thy iEther my gaze, although mortal, doth 
soar with delight, 
Swelling my heart more and more ; 
That thou gav'st me a Spirit undying that thee can 
conceive ; 
That in the heart beating true 
I the beneficent warning of pain from on high did 
receive, 
And the rewarding joy, too ; 
That thou gav'st me a Lyre from which Thoughts of 
the Mind gently flow, 
Songs of the Heart to inspire ; 
And on thy prouder sons laurels and pleasures didst 
freely bestow, 
Giving me only the Lyre ; 
That to the Senses, when taking inspiration's Heaven- 
ward flight, 
Lovelier Life is, forsooth ; 
That in the crystal of Poesy clearer reflected, more 
bright, 
Lovelier mirrored is Truth : 
Therefore, great Goddess, shall, until the Parcse at 
last summon me, 

* See Note g. 



82 



5>tefe« iperaenS ©efil&I, 
Sorter ^iubttdjfeit »ott, in banf&arem ©tra^te bir 

lobern, 
©oil au5 bem golbenen (Spiel 
Unerfdjopflid) bein §>rci^, erfyabne 23ilbnerin, fliefjen, 

©oil biefer benfenbe ®eift 
2In bein miitterlidj £er$ mit reiner Umarmnng pdj 

[deepen, 
25iS ber Sob [ie gerretft 



28te fdjon, o Sftenfdj, mit betnem spalmenjmetge 
©tel)ft b« an bey S^Wnnbert* 9btge 
3n ebler ftolger 9)?annltd)feit, 
SDlit anfgefd)(oj'fnem ©inn, mit ©etjtesfiiffe, 
SSott milben (Emfls, in tfyatenreidjer ©title, 
£)er reiffte ©ofot ber 3tit, 
$rei bnrcfy SSernnnft, ftarf bnrdj ©efe£e, 
Durd) ©anftmntt) grojj unb reic^ bnrd) ©djajje, 
SMe tange geit bein SSufen bir oerfdjtr-ieg, 
iperr ber Sftatur, bie betne geffeln Itebet, 
Die beine ^raft in taufenb ^ampfen liber, 
Unb prangenb nnter bir au$ ber SBernutb'rnng flteg ! 

25eranfd)t ton bem errnngnen ©teg, 
SSerlerne ntdjt, bie ipanb ^u preifen, 
Die an be* SebenS obem ©tranb 
Den toeinenben serlaffnen SBatfen, 
De3 milben Bnfatty 53eure, fanb, 
Die friitje fd)on ber limft'gen ©etfterftitrbe 
Dent JungeS £erg im ©ttdett $nge!e!jrt, 
Unb bie befl'ecfenbe Segierbe 
Son beinem garten 23ufen abgetoeljrt, 



82 

Ever this heart fondly glow, 
Full of a tenderness childlike shall thankfully pulsate 
for thee, 
And from the Lyre shall flow 

To thee, Omnipotent, praise inexhaustible alway on 
high, 
Goddess, this Mind of deep Thought, 
In an embrace fond and pure, on thy motherly heart 
too shall lie — 
Until by Death it is sought. 



THE ARTISTS. 

How beautiful, O Man, with branch of palm, 
Thou standest on the century's slope ! how calm, 

How noble in thy manhood's prime ; 
With unsealed Sense, with spirit full and free, 
"With smiling earnestness and still activity, 

The ripest son of time ; 
Free through thy reason, through obedience strong, 
Through meekness great, and rich with wealth, which 
long 

Lay in thy bosom all unconsciously ; — 
Lord, too, of Nature, who invites thy chains, 
Who tasks thy strength with unremitted pains, 

Till she shines out renewed, redeemed by thee I 

Drunk with thy hard-won victory, 

Forget not thou to celebrate the hand, 
Which found the orphan in its tears 

Left lonely on life's dreary strand, 
The prey of accident and fears, — 

Which early thy young heart in silence turned 
The Spirit's future dignity to see, 

And quenched the lusts, that in thee burned, 
Marring thy soul's simplicity ; — 



83 

£>te (Mttge, bte betne Sucjcnb 

3n §o§en $f!id)ten fjnetenb imterftneS 

Unb ba<3 ©eljeinmij? ber ertyabnen Sugenb 

3n tetdjten SFtdt^fcttt bid) erratfyen lief, 

£>ie, reifer nur il)n nueber gu empfangen, 

3tt frembe 2Irme ifyren £iebling gab; 

£) fa tie ntd)t mit attsgearterem 35ertangen 

3u t^rcn niebern ©ienerutnen aB ! 

3m gleig fann bid) bie 23iene metftern, 

3n ber ®e|c(jitfltd)feit ein SSuvm betn Scfjrer feto, 

SDetn S33iffen tfyeileft bu mit ^orgejognen ©etftern, 

Die $unft, o 9)cenfd), I)aft bu aflein. 

$lux burdj bag 9ftorgentI)or beg (St^onen 
SDrartgft bu in ber (Srfenntnt§ Sanb, 
Sin fyofyern (SHanj fid) gu gewofynen, 
Uebt fid) am Stei^e ber $erftanb» 
$3a3 bei bem ©attenllang ber Sftufen 
STcit fiifem 23eben bid) burd)brang, 
(Sr^cg bie $raft in beinem 23ufen, 
2)ic fidj bereinft gum SMtgeift fd)wang» 

SBasS erft, nafybtm 3at)rtaufenbe serfloffen, 
2)te alternbe SScrnunft erfdnb, 
Sag im ©pmBoI bes @d)6nen unb beS ©rofien, 
SBorait? geoffenbart bem linbif^en S5er(lanb» 
3&r I)ofbe3 33ilb §te§ un£ bie £ugenb lieben, 
Sin garter (Sinn Ijat t>or bem Safter |t(^ gefhmbt, 
&fj nod) ein (Solon bag ©efe$ gefcfyrieben, 
£)as matte 23Iutt)en laugfam treibt 
(EI) oor be3 2>nfer<3 ®eift ber finite 
23egriff beg enj'gen SftaumeS ftanb, 
2Ber fal) fyinauf gur ©ternenbitljne, 
£>er t§n nidjt aljnenb fd)on empfanb? 



i 



83 

That kindly one, who taught thy youth 
The lofty duties 'mid thy playfulness, 

And the deep mysteries of moral truth 
In easy riddles suffered thee to guess ; — 

Who, but to greet him manlier returning, 
To stranger arms her fondest nursling gave ; — 

O fall not off from her — nor, with degenerate 
yearning, 
Become her handmaids' prosing slave. 

In Industry thou'rt mastered by the bee, 
The worm more Skilfulness than thine hath shown, 

Thy Knowledge all high spirits share with thee ; 
But Art, O Man, hast thou alone. 

Only through Beauty's Morning-gate 
Couldst thou to Knowledge penetrate. 
The mind, to face Truth's higher glances, 
Must swim some time in Beauty's trances. 

The heavenly harping of the Muses, 
Whose sweetest trembling through thee rings, 

A higher life into thy soul infuses, 
And wings it upward to the Soul of Things. 

The truth, which had for centuries to wait, — 

The truth, which reason had grown old to find, — 

Lay in the symbol of the Fair and Great, 

Felt from the first by every child-like mind. 

'Twas Virtue's beauty made her honored so : 
A finer instinct shrunk back, when it saw 
The ugliness of sin, ere Solon wrote the law, 

Forcing the plant unwillingly to grow. 

Long ere the thinker's intellect severe 

The notion of eternal space could win, 

Who ever gazed up at yon starry sphere, 
That did not feel it prophesied within ? 



84 



Die, erne ©forte i?on Drionen 
Urn* Slngeftdjt, in ^e^rer SftajefKit, 
9htr angef^aut i>on reineren Damonett, 
©er^e^rent) iiSer ©terncn gefct, 
©eflofjn anf ifyrem ©onnentljrone, 
Die furdjtfcar fyerrltcfye Urania, 
SJttt abgelegter generfrone 
©te$t jte — als *8d)enf)eit *>or un3 ba^ 
Der 2tnmut§ ©itrrel nmgenmnben, 
SKMrb jte $nm $inb, bag ^tnber jte serjietjn. 
2Sa3 roir alo Scbonbeit ^ter empfunben, 
SBirb einft ale SBa^r^eit nn3 entgegen getjm 

5IIy ber Srfdjajfenbe son feinem 2lngeftcfyte 
Den 3ft en f eft en in bie SterBUcfyfeit sernueS, 
Unb eine fcatt 2£ieberfef)r %nm Sidjte 
QXuf febrcerem Sinnenpfab ifm ftttben fjieg, 
2U$ alle £immltfdjen iftr Entity son t§m roanbten, 
©djlejj jte, bie 9ftenfc&Ud)e/ allein 
Wit bent serlaffenen 3Serfcannten 
©refjmntfcig in bie 8terMid)feit ftdj ettu 
Jpier fd)tt>eBt jte, mit gefenftem -<$fnge, 
Urn iftren SieMing, na§ am ©innenlanb, 
Unb malt mit Iteblidsem 23etmge 
Glpftnm auf feine ^erfermanb* 

Site in ben toeicften Slrmen biefer 5lmme 
Die $arte s Iftenfcfyfyeit nocb gerufyt, 
Da fcfyurte beiFge Sftorbfucfyt feine glamme, 
Da raud^te !ein unfdmlbtg 33Iut. 
Da3 $er$, bas jte an fanften SBanfcen tenfet, 
S5erfAma()t ber $flidjten fne<$ttfcfce3 ©eleit; 
3^r Stdjtpfab, fcfyoner nnr gefdjhtngen, fenfet 
Sid) in bie ©ontten&a^n ber Stttlidjfeit. 



84 

A glory of Orions round her head, 

Behold her in her majesty ! 
Her keen glance all but purer Demons dread. 

Consuming where she looks, she rides on high, 
Above the stars, upon her sunny throne, 

Urania — the stately, the severe ! 
But she has laid aside her blazing crown, 

And stands — in Beauty's form — before us here. 
She puts on loveliness' enchanted belt, 

Becomes a child, is hailed by simplest youth. 
What here as Beauty we have felt, 

Shall one day come to us again as Truth. 

"When the Creator from before his face 

Drove man into mortality's dark night, 
And on the senses' dull path bade him trace 

His slow way back again to light ; — 
"When all th' Immortals turned them from him ;- 
when 

"Was none to pity his sad lot but she, — 
She turned not from him, but with exiled men 

Magnanimously chose mortality. 
Here round him still, with unaspiring flight, 

She ever hovers near this sensual ball ; 
Here paints in loveliest, fascinating light 

Elysium on his prison wall. 

"While in the soft arms of this gentle nurse 
Mankind lay smiling in its infant dream, 
No ' holy wars ' spread persecuting flame, 
!NTo blood of innocents drew down the curse. 
The heart that's led by the soft bands of Beauty, 
Scorns to require the narrow thought of Duty ; 
Her path of light pursues its lovelier winding, 
Its way unconsciously to Virtue finding. 



85 

Die t^rem feuf&en Dtenfte When, 

23erfud)t fein niebrer XrieB, Meidjt fein ®ef$ttf; 

2Bie unter tyetlige ©ett>aft gegeben, 

©mpfangen fie bas reine ©etfterle&en, 

Der ^reifyeit fitfeS 3fte$t, juritcJ* 

©liidfelige, bie fie — axt^ ^iHtoneu 
Die reinften — ttyrem Dtenft gemeiljt, 
3>n beren 23ruft fie ttmrbigte ju tfyronen, 
Durdj beren 9Runb bie 3ftdd)tige gefteut, 
Die fie auf ercig flammenben 2lttdren 
(£rfor, bas f)etfge $euer ttjr $u ttafyrett, 
SSor beren Slug- aftein fie fyuftentoS erfdjeinr, 
Die fie in fanftem 35unb urn (tdj seretnt ! 
greut end) ber e§rem>often @tufe, 
SBorauf bie §oJje Drbuung eud) gefteflt! 
3n bie edjabne ©eifiermelt 
SBar't ifyr ber 5D?enfd>^eit crjle <Srufe! 

(£§' iftr ba$ ®Tei$mag in bte SQBelt ge&ra^r, 
Dent atte SBefen freubtg bienen — 
Sin unermeffner 53an im fdjmargen $tor ber Sftacfyt, 
9tdd)ft nm ifyn permit ntattem ©tratyl Befdjienen, 
©in ftreitenbeS ©eftaftenfyeer, 
Die feinen ©inn in (Sfla&enbanben fjielten, 
Unb ungefetlig, rauij rote er, 
9ft it tanfenb ^rdften auf tyn gielten, 
— @o ftanb bie ©djopfung »or bem SBilben* 
Dnrd) ber 33egierbe blinbe ^effel nur 
2ln bie (Srfdjeinungen gebunben, 
Sntflofy tfym, ungenoffert, tmentpfunben, 
Die fcfyone ©eele ber 9lahtr* 

Unb wte fte fltetjenb j[e^t soruber futjr, 
©rgrtffet ifyr bie nacfy&arlidjen (&$atttn 



85 

The souls to her chaste service given 

No baser instincts tempt, no terrors blight ; 

A holy influence, a breath from heaven, 

Lifts them into the spirit-realm of light, 

To dwell in Freedom, sweetest, earliest right. 

O happy ye — of millions the few — 
Whom she hath blessed, her holy work to do ; 
Within whose breast she deigns to set her throne, 
And through whose lips she makes her mandates 

known ; 
Who, ever watchful, tend her holy altars, 
Whose bright up-streaming flame ne'er falters. 
Your eyes alone her unveiled beauties see ; 
Ye wait on her, a choice fraternity ! 
Enjoy ye, then, the honorable place, 

To which high Order lifts you here ! 

In the exalted spirit-sphere 
Ye ever were the foremost of the race ! 

Till ye the charm of symmetry had found, 

Whose law all beings joyfully obey, — 
A boundless, shapeless pile, on night's black ground, 

Looming before him, lit with dull, dim ray, — 
A host of shapes most contradictory, 

Which held his soul in bondage ; which, untamed, 
Unsocialized, and rude as he, 

At him their thousand forces aimed, 

— So stood Creation to the wild man's eye. 
Blind slave to appetite's control, 

With mere appearances employed, 
He let fair Nature's quickening soul 

Escape him all unfelt and unenjoyed. 

But well ye caught, as she flew past, 
The neighborly shadows which she cast, 
18 



86 



Wlit partem Sinn, tmt (litter ipanb, 

Unb lerntet in frarmon 1 fd)em 23anb 

©efellig fte jufammen §attm. 

Setdjtfdjwefcenb fiiMte jtdj ber Slid 

SSom fdjlattfen 28m$3 ber (£eber aufge^gen, 

©cfattig ftra^tte ber tfrpflatt ber SBBogen 

Die ppfenbe ©eflalt auriid 

SQBtc foitntet itjr beg fd)5nen SBinfS 9 erfefj ten, 

SBomit eu$ bie 9latur §ulfreicfj enrgegen fam? 

S)ie $uttfl, ben ©fatten itjr nacftaljmenb afyu* 

flefylett, 
SBieg eucfy bag SMtb, bag auf ber 2Boge fcfymamm, 
SSon tfjrem SBefett a£gef$ieben, 
3^r eigneg ItefcttdjeS 9)fyantom, 
SBarf fte ftdj in ben ©tl&erjlrom, 
(Sid) ifyrem jftaufcer cmjufcteten. 
•Die fdjime SSilbfraft n>arb in enrem 33nfen n>a$. 
3n ebel fdjon, nidjt miifng $u empfangen, 
(Sdjuft ifyr im <5anb — im £6on ben ^otben 

©fatten na$, 
3tn Umrifj trarb feitt Dafein aufgefangen. 
SeBenbig regte jtdj beg SBirfeng fiife Sufi, 
Die erfte ©djopfung trat aug eurer 23rufr* 

5Son ber Setradjtung angefiatten, 
S5on eurem ©patjeraug' umftridr, 
SSerrietijen bie »ertraulid)en ©eftalten 
Den talisman, n>obur$ fte mfy ertrjudft* 
Die munbermirfenben ©efei^e, 
Deg 9^ei3eg auggeforfd)te ^fa'tyi, 
SBerfniipfte ber erftnbenbe 23erftanb 
3n teicfytem S3unb in SSerfen eurer £anb. 
Der DMigfe ftteg, bie ^Ppramibe, 



86 

"With nicer sense, with gentler hand, 

And learned to wed them in harmonious band. 

Your swimming eyes with wonder glowed 
To see the slender cedar's graceful frame, 
And how the flashing crystal stream 

Once more the dancing image showed. 

How could ye to the lovely wink be blind 

Which helpful Nature, as she passed you, gave ? 

Art, stealthy copyist, kept close behind, 

And traced the form that floated on the wave. 

Renouncing her essential state, 

A phantom of herself, a dream, 

She threw herself into the silver stream, 

A willing victim at her robber's feet. 

Then woke the plastic impulse in your bosom warm. 

Too noble not to let yourselves be taught, 
In sand or clay ye modelled the fair form, 

And in rude outlines its expression caught. 
So sprang the first creation from your breast ; — 
Sweet sense of power ! once woke, it knew no rest. 



Surprised by your inquisitive arts, 

And long 'neath watchful eyes surveyed, 
The forms at length confidingly betrayed 

The Talisman by which they won all hearts. 

Ye found the wonder-working laws, 

Perceived each hidden charm, and learned its cause. 

And all these treasures, with inventive mind, 

In the fair works of your own hand combined. 

The Obelisk arose, the Pyramid, 



87 

Die #erme fhnb, fete (Bank fprang empor, 
DeS 28albe3 $Mobte fifojj au§ bem ipafcerro^r, 
Unb ©tea.e$i#aten lebten in bent Siebe* 

Die Slnsrcafyl einer 53Iumenflnr, 
Sfttt meifer 2Bafy( in eitten (Strauf geBnnben — 
©o teat bie erfte $unft au§ ber 9catnr : 
3e£t ttmrben ©traufje fdjott in einen $ran$ ge* 

nmnben, 
Unb eine gtoette, Wre jhtnjt erftanb 
2ht3 <Sd)opfnngen ber 9)ienfdjenfyanb, 
Das $mb ber ©djon^ett, ft$ atfein genng, 
SSodenbet fcfyon cms enrer ipanb gegangen, 
23erltert bie ^rone, bie eS trng, 
(Sobalb e3 2Birf(id)feit empfangen. 
Die ©ante mn§, bem ©leicfymaf nntertfjan, 
5ln i§re ©cftmeftern nadjfcarlidj fid) fdjltegen, 
Der ipelb im £elbenf)eer $erfltefjen* 
De3 9ftaoniben £arfe ftimmt s>oran* 

23alb brangten fldj bie fiannenben 23at6aren 
3n biefen neuen ©$6pfnngen fyeran* 
@e{jt, riefen bie erfreuten ©djaaren, 
<5el)t an, ba$ §at ber 9flenf$ getfyan ! 
3n Inftigen, gefetttgeren $aaren 
9ttfj }k bes ©angers Seier nadj, 
Der son Xitanen fang nnb 3ftefeitfdj(adjtert, 
Unb Sowentobtern, bie, fo lang ber ©anger fprac$, 
%u$ \tmtn £orern ipelben marten* 
gum erftenmal genieft ber ©eift, 
(Srqutdt son rn^igeren grenben, 
Die an* ber ^erne nnr ifyn toeiben, 
Die feine ©ier m$t in fein S3efen reijjt, 
Die im ©enuffe nifyt serfdjeiben. 



87 

The Herma too, and graceful shaft erelong ; 
The woodland melody breathed forth from shepherd's 
reed, 
And deeds of heroes lived in song. 

The choosing of a lily or a rose, 

With skilful choice into a nosegay bound,— 
So the first form of Art from Nature rose ; 

Then nosegays into wreaths were wound, 
And so a second loftier Art began 
From the creative hand of man. 
The child of Beauty, all complete alone, 

From your still-shaping hand goes forth, 
But to a new idea must yield the crown, 

As soon as realized on earth. 
The column must proportion's law obey, 

And to the sister group its graces lend ; 

The hero in the host of heroes blend, 
And Homer's harp begins the Epic lay. 

Barbarian hordes came down ; but stayed their hands 

These novel miracles of Art to scan. 
"See," shouted the surprised, delighted bands, 

" See here ! all this was done by man !" 
In social pairs, with spirits light, 

They danced to the old minstrel's lyre, 
Whose song, of Titans, and of giants' fight, 

And lion-killers, set them all on fire ; 
The lofty, soul-inspiring strain 
Made heroes of them all again. 
Then learned the soul its inward treasures, 

Those calmer joys of thought, to cherish, 
Sweeter than wild consuming pleasures, 

Which with the first enjoyment perish. 



88 



3ej3t wanb fid) son bent ©inneufdjlafe 
!Dte fretc fdjone ©eele IoS; 
2)urdj eu^ entfeffelt, [prang ber (StTaoe 
£>er <5orge in ber greube @d)oo§» 
3e£t ftel ber £fyierl)ett bumpfe @$ranfe, 
Unb 9ftenfd)f)eit trat auf bie entmotfte ©tint, 
Unb ber ertya&tte trembling, ber (Sebaufe, 
(Sprang au$ bem ftaunenben ©e^irn. 
3e£t ftanb ber 9ftenf$ unb wieS ben ©ternett 
£)as foniglicfye 2lngeftd)t; 
(Scfyon banfte na$ erfyabnen §ernen 
<Sein fprecfyenb Slug 1 bem <5onnenlid)U 
£)a$ £ad)eht blufytt auf ber SBangej 
SDer ©ttmme feelenoottes @piel 
(Entfaitete fidj jum ©efange ; 
3iu feucfyten 2luge fd)» a mm ©efutjt, 
Unb ©cfyer^ mit £ulb iu anmutfysootlem Sunbe 
(Sntquotteu bem befeelten SUlunbe. 



SBegraBen in be3 2Burme3 SrieBe, 
Umfcfylungen oon be$ @tnue3 2uft, 
Gsrfanntet ttjr in fetner SSrujI 
SDen ebefn ^etm ber ©eiftertiebe. 
T>a$ yon beg @tnne3 uicbrem Xrtebe 
£)er £iebe beffrer $eim fid) fdjiefo, 
£)anft er bem erften ^irtenlieb* 
©eabelt ju ©ebanfenrcurbe, 
g(o§ bie Derfdjamtere SBjgierbe 
Sftetobifd) au$ be$ ©angers 9ftunb» 
(Sanft gluten bie bettjauten SBangen;' 
£)as itberlebenbe SSerlangen 
S3erliinbigte ber <Seelen Suub. 



88 

Now, shaking off its sensual sleep, 

The soul could breathe a freer air ; 

By you unchained, the slave Gf care 
Into the lap of Joy could leap. 
The narrow limits of the beast gave way, 
And Manhood shone on the clear brow, like Day ; 
And Thought, high stranger, from the wondering 

brain 
Sprang forth, and claimed his right to reign. 
So man stood forth, and to the stars on high 

Displayed his kingly countenance ; 
And to the sunlight his full, speaking eye 

Gave back a grateful glance. 
Upon his cheek there bloomed a smile ; 
His voice's soul-full play the while 

In melody flowed forth ; 
His moist eye swam with feelings fond ; 
And Grace and Humor, in harmonious bond, 

To every word gave worth. 



Sunk in the groveling instincts of the worm, 
The haggard prey of appetite's unrest, 

Yet ye discerned the nobler germ 
Of spirit's love within his breast ; 

And, that it lay not hidden long, 

He thanks the first rude shepherd's song. 

Ennobled to poetic thought, 

Shamed passion softer utterance sought ; 

Sweet from the lips in song it flowed ; 

The moistened cheeks expressive glowed ; 

And growing fondness plainly said 

That here were spirits deeply wed. 



89 



£)er SBetfen 2Betfe(ieg, ber SJctlben 9flitbe 
£)er 8tarfen $raft, ber (Sbeln ©ragie, 
23ermaf)(tet i{)r in einem 23tlbe 
Unb ftetftet e3 in eine ©tone* 
£)er SRenfdj erbe&te »or bent Unfcefannten, 
(Er Ite&te feinen SBiberfdjetn ; 
Unb fyerrlicfye £eroen bvanntm, 
£)em gro.fjen 2Befen gleidj ^n fein. 
SDen erften ^lang oom Urbito aftes (S^onen 
Sfyt lief et ifyn in ber Sftatur ertonen. 

£)er 2eibenfd)aften nnlben Drang, 
£)e3 ©fitcfe$ regellofe (Sptele, 
£)er §)jTtd)ten nnb 3nftincte 3tt> a rt& 
@tcttf il)r mit priifenbem ©efitfyle, 
Sftit ftrengem 9tid)tf$ett nad) bem 3 tele. 
2Ba3 bie 9tatur auf ifyrem grofen ©ange 
3n foeiten gernen au^etnanber gte§t, 
SBirb auf bem ©djauptaj3, im ©efange, 
£)er Drbnung letdjt gefag res ©lieb. 
SSom (Sumentbendjor gefdjredet, 
3tef)t ft* ; ber 9ftorb, audj nie entbetfet, 
£)a3 £00$ be3 Sobes au3 bent £ieb* 
Sang, e^ bie SBeifen tbren 2lu3fpru$ magen, 
£6st eine 3Ua$ be6 @<$t(ffal$ 9tat$felfragen 
£)er jngenbli^en 23orn>elt auf; 
©till nmnbelre Don S^efpis' SBagen 
£)ie 33orftdjt in ben SBeltenlauf. 

©oc^ in ben grofjen SMtenlauf 
SBarb euer S&enmajj gn frit!) getrageu. 
2tts bes ©efdjttfes bun!(e ^anb, 
2Ba3 fte oor eurem 2luge fdjniirte, 
SSor eurem ^ug 1 nid)t au^einanber han't), 



89 

The wise man's wisest, and the strong man's might, 

And all ye knew of nobleness or grace, 

Ye moulded in one heavenly face, 
And set it in a glory bright. 
Man shrunk from the unknown, but fondly turned 

His own ideal thus portrayed to see ; 
And many a hero's bosom burned 

More like that lofty one to be. 
The arch-type of all beauty ye first sought, 
Its first faint echo ye in nature caught. 

The passions riot unconfined, 

Chance wantons in capricious play, 
Duty and Instinct both are blind, 
Till ye with your true feeling find, 

And show them each its destined way. 
If Nature on her grand career 

At distance shows effect from cause ; 

They in the song's, the drama's laws 
Members of one fair whole appear. 
The murderer, where none suspect him, 
Hears the dread Furies, and his fears detect him ; — 

He from their chant the damning sentence draws. 
Long ere the wise men ventured to decide, 
An Iliad the knot of Fate untied 
In presence of an infant world ; 
And mimic life, on Thespis' car unfurled, 
Sent out a keen prophetic glance 
Far forward through this world of chance. 

But the great world too slowly reached 
The even rule ye loved and preached. 

For since stern Fate had chosen you 
As witnesses of its dark plot, but ne'er 

Before your eyes the riddle would undo, 



90 



Dag Sefien in Me SLtcfc fd^tvanb, 

(g^ 1 eg ben fdjimen $reig »offfii§rte — 

Da fittyrtet tyr au$ Hotter Sigenmacfyt 

Den 23ogen setter bnrcfy ber Sufunft 9?a$t$ 

Da jliirjtet il)r end) of)ne 23eben 

3n be^ 2toernng fcfymargert Ocean, 

Unb trafet bag entflotjne Men 

3enfeitg ber Urne tineber an; 

Da getgte ftdj mit untgejiurgtem Stdjte, 

2ln j^ajtor angeletjnt, ein blii^enb ^offnrMtbj 

Der ©fatten in beg 9ftonbeg Slngeftdjte, 

(£§ ftdj ber fdjone (Silfcerfrete erfiittt. 

Dodj tyofjer (lets, ^u immer fjotjerit ^o^en 
<3d)tt>ang ftdj bag fcfyaffenbe ©enie* 
©cfyon fiel)t man @djopfnngen ang (Scfyopfungen 

erjte^en, 
5tng iparmonten £armonte. 
2Qa$ ^ter allein bag trunfne Sing 1 entjiicfr, 
Dtent nnterroiirftg bort ber fyofyern ©cfyone; 
Der SM$, ber btefe 9fymplje ffymMt, 
@d)mil$t fanft in erne gottticfye 2ltfyene; 
Die Jtraft, bie in beg Sfttngerg SSftugfel fcfynutlr, 
9ftuf? in beg ©otteg ©djimtjett lieblicfy fd)»eigen; 
Dag ©taunen feiner &it r bag ftolge SoMgbtlb, 
3m Xempel $n DIpmpta fid) netgen. 

Die SBelt, ttertuanbett bnr$ ben %lti% 
Dag Sttenfcfcentyera, Betoegt son nenen Sriefcen, 
Die ftdj in Jjeif en ^ampfen iiben, 
Srweitern enren ©djopfnnggfreig. 
Der fortgefcfyrittne SJftenfd) tragt anf er^ofcnen 

©d)n>ingen 
Danffcar bie $nnfi mit jidj empor, 



90 

Life often plunged into despair, 

Before its glorious end it knew. — 
Then ye sent forth, ye, of your own bold might, 
Your bow of promise through the Future's night, 

And, fearless, followed your sublime Idea 
Under Avernus' gloomy wave, 

And found the life, that had escaped you here, 
More beautiful beyond the grave. 

Then, leaning upon Castor, torch reversed, 
A blooming Pollux' form was seen ; 

The full moon's shadow, while the new moon 
first 
Shows forth an edge of silvery sheen. 



But higher still, to ever higher heights, 
The plastic genius winged its daring flights ; 
Creations from creations see already rise, 
And harmony from harmonies. 
What here delights the drunken eye, alone, 

There to a loftier beauty its own beauty lends ; 
The charm, with which this wood-nymph shone, 

Now in a godlike Pallas softly blends ; 
The strength, which in the wrestler's muscle strove, 

Must now repose in the calm grandeur of the God ; 
And, wonder of his time, proud, sculptured Jove 

In his high temple at Olympia nod. » 



The world, renewed by labor's change, — 
The heart of man, wherein, in turn, 
All hot, conflicting passions burn, — 

Enlarge your Art's creative range. 

Man, far advanced, on ever-soar ng wing, 

With grateful feeling carries with him Art ; 



91 



Unb mm ©d)on{jett3tt>eften fprtngen 
Slug ber Bereidjerren 9tatur ^ersor. 
3>3 Stiffens @d)rcmfen gefyen auf, 
2)er ®etft, in euren leid)ten (Siegen 
®euBt, mit fd)nelt gejeitigtem Sergniigen 
©in tunftfid) WS. ijon diti^n ju burd)eilen, 
©relit ber Sftatur eutlegenere ©aulen, 
(Sretfet fie auf it)rem bunfeln 2auf» 
3e£t tt>agt er fie mit meufd)Iid)en ©ermdjten, 
%ili$t fie mit 9fta$en, bie fie tt)m getiefyn; 
93erftanblid)er in feiner ©d)6nt)eit *Pflid)ten 
fflufy fie an feinem Slug 1 sjoruBer %k$n. 
3n felBftgefalPger iugenbltdjer greube 
£eir;t er ben (Spfyaren feine iparmonie, 
Unb preifet er ba3 SBeltgeBaube, 
<5o prangt e3 burd) bie ©tymmetrie* 

3n atlem, roas tfjn je^t umteBet, 
(Sprint ir)n ba3 fyoibe ©ieid)mafj an. 
2)er @d)ont)eit golbner (Mrtel rocBet 
©i(^ milb in feine SeBensBafyu; 
£)ie felige 5SoIIenbung fdjweBet 
3n euren SBerlen fiegenb ttjm ttoran*. 
SBotjin bie laute greube eilet, 
SBo^in ber jittte Summer flier) t, 
2Bo bie 33errad)tung benfenb tteilet, 
28o er be$ (SfenbS £r)raueu ftetjt, 
2Bo taufenb ©cfyreden auf ir)n gielen, 
$olgt tt)m ein £armonienBa$, 
(5iet)t er bie ipulbgotrimten fpieten, 
Unb ringt in fttU serfeinerten ©efitljlen 
2)er IteBli^en SBegleituug nad^ 
(Sauft, rote be<3 SfteigeS Sinten fid) nuuben, 



91 

And so from Nature's soil, enriched, there spring 

New worlds of beauty to refresh the heart. 

The boundaries of Knowledge disappear ; 

By your light victories kept in action, 

Chasing a fleeting satisfaction 

Through the whole world of beauteous forms, the 
soul 

Sets farther forward Nature's goal, 
And speeds her on her dim career. 

He weighs her now with weights of man's device ; 
Metes her with measures which from her he draws ; 
With truer insight, judged by Beauty's laws, 

He must behold her pass before his eyes. 
In self-renewing youthfulness of soul, 

He lends the spheres his harmony ; 
And if he praise the world's great whole, 

'Tis that he feels its symmetry. 



And now, in all that round him lives, 

To him a fair proportion speaks ; 
Beauty her girdle of all colors weaves 

Into whatever path he seeks ; 
And, with your glorious works before him, 
Perfection's self, blest fancy, hovers o'er him. 
Where frank-voiced Joy darts off to recreation, 

Where silent Sorrow shrinks away from light, 
Where lingers thoughtfully pale Contemplation, 

Where weeping Misery meets his sight, 
Where thousand terrors crowd around his way, — 

Follows a stream of harmony divine : 
He sees the Goddesses — the Graces — play, 

And strives his inmost feelings to refine, 

That he that lovely company may join. 
Soft as the lines to beauteous curves still tending, 



92 



2Bte bte (£rf$etnungen urn ttjn 
3n toetcfyem Umrtf; in eincmber fdjttunben, 
gUejjji femes Mens leidjter £and> bafytn* 
<5ein ©etffc gerrinnt tm £armonienmeere, 
SDaS feme <3tnne »othtjrret<§ umfliefj r, 
Unb ber Ijinfdjmelaenbe ©ebanfe fcfyttegt 
(Stdj ftttt an bie aKgegenmartige (S^ttjere* 
9fttt bent ®efd>td in f>oI)er (Sinigfett, 
(Maffcn fytngeftit^t auf ©ragien unb SSftnfen, 
(Smpfangt er ba3 ®efd)o£, ba£ tfyn oebranr, 
Sftit frennbftdj barge&otnetn 23nfen 
SSom fanften 23ogen ber Sftotfytoenbigfett. 

33ertraute CieMtnge ber fePgen Jparntonte, 
(Srfreuenbe 23egletter burd) ba^ £e6en, 
£)a3 Sbelfk, bad £l>enerj*e, rcas fte, 
£)te 2eoen gao, %um Seben nns gegeoen, 
£)a$ ber entjocfyte 9ftenf$ je£t fetne 5>fXt^ten benfr, 
£)te gejjel itebet, bte ityit lenft, 
$em 3ufaff nte^r mtt efyrnem (Scepter xfym geBeut, 
©ted banft end) — enre Sroigfat, 
Unb etn erfyabner £ofyri in enrem .ipergem 
S)af urn ben ^elcfy, toortn nnS greityeit rinnt, 
£)er §reube ©otter Inftig fcfyergen, 
£)er fyolbe £ranm ftd) tieblicfy fptmtt, 
SDafur fetb UebeooE nmfangen I 

£)em premgenben, bem Tfyettern ©etfr, 
£)er bte 9'£otl)menbtgfett mtt ©ragie nmgogett, 
£)er fetnen Sterner, feinen ©ternenbogen 
Sftit Smmuttj nn3 bebtenen tyeijjt, 
SDer, wo er fd)redt, nod) burdj (Sr^aben^ett ent* 

jucfet 



92 

Soft as appearances, which never stay. 
In yielding outlines, undulating, blending, — 

So flows his life's light breath away. 
His soul dissolves in a harmonious ocean, 

Which round his sense its gladdening billows 
flings ; 
And every thought, in hushed, entranced devotion, 

To all-pervading Cytherea clings. 
At one, in highest sense, with Destiny, 

He on the Graces' quiet strength reposes, 

And to the arrow his full breast exposes 
From the mild bow of great Necessity. 

Hail ! favored confidants of Harmony thrice blessed, 

Cheering each other on through life to heaven ! 
The noblest ye, the dearest and the best, 

Which she — which life to us— for life — hath given I 
That man, made free, to Duty now gives heed, 
And loves the chains which safely lead ; 
That Accident shakes over him no more 
The iron sceptre of its power, — 
This thanks you — this, the glory of your Art, 
The high reward ye carry in your heart. 
That round the cup of Freedom run 

The Gods of joy, in groups grotesquely traced, 
And loveliest dreams, fantastically spun, 

Be ye for that with warmest love embraced I 

The all-pervading, all-adorning Soul, — 

Who veils Necessity in graceful forms, — 
Who bids his skies, his stars, with all their charms 
Hang o'er our life, and makes its beauty whole,- 
Who, while he strikes us down with fear, 
Exalts us by sublimity, 



93 



ttnb $um SSerljeeren felBjt ft$ fdjmitcfer, 
Dent grof en $imjUer o^mt ifjr nacfy* 
2Bie auf bem fptegel^ellert 33 ad) 
Die Bunten Ufer tan^enb fcfymeBen, 
Das StBenbrotf), ba$ 251utt)enfelb, 
@o fcfyimmert auf bem bitrft'gen £eBen 
Der Did)tung muntre ©djattenn?elr* 
3#r fitfyret uns tm 23rautgemanbe 
Die fitrcfyterlictye UnBefannte, 
Die unern?eid)te $arge ijor* 
2Bie eure Urnen bie ©ebeinc, 
Decft vfjr mit ^olbem 3auBerfdjeine 
Der ©orgen fd)auert> often (£f)or. 
3a^rtaufenbe fyaB 1 tdj burcfyetlet, 
Der 23orwelt unaBfetjtid) Sfttidj: 
2Bie lactjt bie 9ftenfd$eit, too ifjr toeitet! 
2Bie traurig liegt fte Winter eu$! 

Die einfl mit fludjtigem ©ejteber 
SSoII $raft aus euren ©Roofer!) anben jitea,, 
3n eurem 2Irm fanb fte ftdj toieber, 
2J13 burdj ber 3«iten jttflen @teg 
De3 2eBen3 SSlittije oon ber SBange, 
Die <Starfe oon ben ©liebern tot$, 
Unb traurig, mit entnerotem ©ange, 
Der ©rei3 an feinem (StaBe fcfylid). 
Da reidjtet ifyr au$ frifdjer Quelle 
Dem Sedjjenben bie SeBenStoelte; 
3toeimal oeriiingte ftd) bie 3eit, 
3*oeimal oon ©amen, bie i|r auSgefireut* 

SSertrieBen oon 23arBarenf)eeren, 
(Stttrijfet ityr ben fe|ten DpferBranb 



93 



And makes destruction beautiful appear ; 

— O, like that mighty Artist strive to be. 
As, on the glassy brook revealed, 

The motley banks dance playfully, 
The evening red, the flowery field ; — 
So shimmers o'er our barren life 

The airy world of Poesy. 
Ye to our timid eyes have shown 
In bridal garb the dread Unknown, 

The unrelenting Sisters three ; 
And, as your urns our ashes screen, 
So deck ye with fair magic sheen 

Pale Sorrow's shuddering company. 
Adown long centuries my look I carry, 

O'er dim Antiquity in haste : — 
How smiles Humanity where'er ye tarry 1 

Behind you what a dreary waste ! 



On flighty pinion once it rose 

From your creative hands in its full prime ; 
Then in your arms again it sought repose, 

When, by the silent victory of time, 
All bloom of life had fled the cheek, 
All strength the limbs, and mournfully and weak, 
The vigor of his step unnerved, 
Over his staff the tottering old man curved. 
Then ye from the fresh fountain offered first 
The living waters to the soul athirst. 
Twice did old Time his long-lost youth renew, 
Twice from the seeds thus sown by you. 



Driven out by barbarous hordes, in haste 

Ye snatched the last half-smothered brand 
19 



94 



£)e$ Orients entfjeiligten 2tftaren 

Unb Bracelet ifyn bem SIBenbtanb, 

Da ftieg ber fcfyone gliidjtfing au$ bem Dfien, 

SDer junge £ag im SBcjlcn neu empor, 

Unb auf ipefperienS ©eftlben fprof ten 

SSerjihtgte IBIitt^en 3oniens3 ^ersor* 

£)ie fcfyonere *ftatnr rcarf in bie ^eelett 

©anft fpiegelnb einen fcfyonen SBiberfdjeht, 

Unb prangenb 309 in bte gef^miidten ©eelen 

2)e3 States gro§e ©ottin eim 

S)a fa| man 9ftitlionen ^etten fatten, 

Unb iiber ©flaoen fpracfy jeijt 9ftenfcfyenre$t; 

$8ie SBritber frieblid) mit einanber rcatten, 

@o milb erwudjs ba£ jitngere ©ef<$Ie<§U 

9Jttt innrer $o$er ^renbenfittfe 

®enie§t itjr ba3 gegeBne ©littf, 

Unb tretet in ber ©etmtflj Spittle 

SWtt fdjrceigenbem Serbienft anrittf* 

2Benn anf bes £>enfen3 freigegebnen Satjnen 
•Der gorf^er je£t mit fntynem ©liide f$»eift 
Unb, trnnfen son ftegrnfenben $aanen, 
SD^tt rafter £anb frf)on nacfy ber $rone greift; 
SBenn er mit nieberm ©oibnerSlo^ne 
3)en ebeln ^iitjrer ^n entlajfen glaafct, 
Unb neben bem getranmten Xfyxont 
£)er jhmft ben erften ©fla$enpla£ erlanbt: — 
SBcrjci^t it)m — ber Sotlenbung ^ronc 
©cfyroebt glanjenb itber enrem £anpt 
Wit end), be$ gritfylingS erfter $flan$e, 
33egann bie feelettbilbertbe 9?atnr; 
9ft it eudj, bem frenb'gen @rntefran$e, 
©djtiejjt bie ootlenbenbe 9?atur. 



94 

From the polluted altars of the East, 

And brought it to the Western land. 
Then stood the exile, lovelier to view, 

The fresh young Day, new risen in the West ; 

And on Hesperian fields, more amply blessed, 
Once more the blossoms of Ionia grew. 
More genial Nature flung across all souls 

From her soft mirror a reflection bright ; 

And the great Goddess of the Light 
In all her splendor shone in cultured souls. 
O, then they saw the chains from millions fall ; 

Then over slaves first spake the Rights of Man ; 
Then, brotherlike, in peace dwelt all ; 

So its mild growth the younger race began. 
Inly with lofty joy elated, 

Ye smiled to see the happiness ye'd given, 
And 'neath the veil of Modesty retreated. 

Your silent merit was your heaven. 



If on the path of Thought, that freely spreads before 
him, 

The inquirer now with bold success sweeps on, 
And, drunk with Pseans shouted o'er him, 

Puts forth an eager hand to seize the crown ; — 
If then he thinks to let his noble guide, 

Pleased with a hireling's mean reward, depart, 
Erect the first slave's office close beside 

The ideal, dream-discovered throne of Art ; — 
Forgive him still— for over you 
Perfection's crown hangs full in view. 
With you, the earliest plant of Spring, 

Nature to form the tender soul began ; 
With you, rich Autumn's wreath, shall Nature bring 

To a glad close her slowly-cherished plan. 



95 



Die son bent £t)on, bent Stein Befc^etbcn aufge* 

ftiegen, 
Die fdjopfertfdje $tun% itmfdjttejjt mit ftitten (Stegen 
Deg ©eifteS unermeffne3 SReid). 
23a0 in be3 SBiflfenS Sanb (Sntbecfer nur erpegen, 
Sntbecfen fie, erftegen fie fair end}* 
Der (Sdjajje, bie ber Denfer aufgeljaufet, 
SSirb er in euren 2irmen erft jtdj freun, 
SSenn feine $3ij|enfd)aft, ber ©djim^eit jugereifet 
Sum ^unftmer! nnrb geabelt fein — 
SBenn er anf einen £iigel mit eut^ fteiget, 
Unb feinem 2hige fid), in mttbem 2Ibenbfd)eht, 
Da3 malerifd)e Zfyal — auf einmal jetget* 
3e reiser tfyr ben [Snellen Slid fcergniiget, 
3e fco§re, fdjonre Crbmtngen ber ©eift 
3n einem 3 fl uBerfotnb burcfyflieget, 
3u einem fcfyttetgenben ©enujj umfretSt; 
3e tteiter ftdj ©ebanfen unb ©efiifjle 
Dent iippigeren iparmonienfptele, 
Dent reicfyern Strom ber (£&)'6nl)tit aufgetfjan — 
3e fdjiinre ©lieber au3 bem 2£e(tenptan, 
Die je#t serjiiimmelt feine ©cftepfung fcfyanben, 
©tetyt er bie fyefyen ^ormen bann uoUetiben, 
3e fcfyimre SFlat^fel treten au$ ber 9kd)t, 
3e reiser tt?irb bie 23elt, bie er umfdjUefjet, 
3e breitcr ftromt ba» Wltix, mit bem er fliefjet, 
3e fd)rcad)er toirb beg SdndfalS Minbe 2fta<$t, 
3e fyofyer ftreben feine Sriefce, 
3e lleiner nnrb er feloft, je grower feine Siefce. 
©o fiifyrt it)n, in serborgnem £auf, 
Durd) immer reinre gormen, reinre £6ne, 
Durd) immer l)cl)re £5fyn ttnb immer fdjonre 

©d;one 



From clay and stone the first Art humbly rose ; 
With still advances conquering it goes 

The soul's unmeasured empire through ; 
And what discoverers have sought 
And won within the land of Thought, 

They have discovered, won it all for you. 
The treasures, which the thinker has amassed, 

First in your arms shall warm his heart, » 

"When his cold Science, ripened into Beauty, shall at 
last 

Become ennobled to a work of Art, — 
When he upon a hill with you shall go, 
And to his eye, in the mild evening-glow, 
The valley-picture paint itself below. 
The richer ye his quick look satisfy, 

The loftier the spheres, thro' which ye tempt his 
soul, 
As by a magic spell, to fly, 

And lose itself with rapture in the whole ; 
The wider every thought and feeling 
Opens to the softly stealing 
Melodies, in mingling play, 
And beauty streaming in like Day — 
The clearer order will he see 
In forms no longer strewed promiscuously, 
But blending in a world's harmonious plan, 
That answers sweetly to the soul of man ; 

The lovelier secrets will he draw from night ; 
The richer grow the world, with which he grows, 
The broader stream the sea, with which he flows ; 

The weaker seem old Destiny's blind might ; 
The higher strive his yearning heart above ; 
The smaller he become, while greater grows his love. 

So lead him, imperceptibly, 
Through ever purer tones, and purer forms, 
Through ever higher heights, and fairer charms, 



96 



£er £t#tung SlumenTettct fttfl" Ijinauf — 

3ule^t, am retfen 3tel ber 3 e t ten / 

*ftod) eine gtiicfttd)e 33egeifierung, 

S)e3 jungften SJftenfd&cnalters £t#terf$ttmng, 

Unb — in ber 2£a^rljeit 2lrme nurb er gteiten. 

<Sie fetfcjt, bie fanftc S^prta, 
Umteudfotet son ber ^enerfrone, 
Sie$i bann sor ityrem mitnb'gen (so^ne 
(£ntfd)Ieiert — aU Urania, 
(So fdmeller nur son tfym erijafdjet, 
3e f&b'ner er oon tftr gejTof)nl 
@o fitjj, fo fetig iioerrafdjet 
©tanb einft Ul^ffend cbler (Sofjn, 
£a feiner 3«9^ tyimmltfcfcer ©efa^rte 
gu 3ooi3 Softer ftdj oerflarte* 

£er Sftenfd^eit SSitrbe tfi in eure £anb <je* 
geben, 

S5eira^ret fie! 

<Sie ftnft mit euc^! Sftit en$ totrb fte ftdj §eoen! 

;Der £icfctung Ijetltge 9ftagie 

SMent eittem toeifen SBeltenplane, 

(Still lenfe fie jum Cceane 

SDer grofen £armonie! 

S5on iljrer 3 e ^ serjro jen, filiate 
£)fc ernfte SBa^rfjeit gum ©ebicfyte 
Unb ftnbe Scfcu£ in ber (Eamonen (£$or* 
3n tljreS ®(anje$ fco&fter giille, 
gurdjtbarer in beS sfteijes £utte, 
(Srftefye fie in bem ©efange 
Unb racfce ftcft mit ©tegegffange 
Sin be3 SSerfoIgerS feigem £§r. 



96 

Up the steep blossom-path of Poesy- 
Till, on time's ripest elevation, 
Yet one more happy inspiration, 
One poet-flight of the last Era's youth, 
And — he will glide into the arms of Truth. 

She herself, soft Cypria, 

Illumined with her fiery crown, 
Stands before her full-grown son, 
Unveiled now — as Urania ; 

So much the sooner found, the manlier, 
The more refined he fled from her ! 
Such was Ulysses' noble son's surprise, 
When his good Mentor stood before his eyes 
As high Minerva, dropping her disguise. 

The dignity of Man 

Into your hands is given ; 
O, keep it well ! 

With you it sinks, or lifts itself to heaven ! 
The poet's holy spell 
But serves a world's well-ordered plan ; 

Soft may it lead unto the sea 

Of the great Harmony ! 

Let earnest Truth, if her own age reject her, 
Seek rest in Song ;— the Muses shall protect her ; 

Then shall she meet the unbelieving sneer 
With glance, whence guilty spirits quail, 
More terrible in Beauty's veil ; 
Then shall she stand up in the might of Song, 
And with avenging trumpet, shout her wrong 

Into her persecutor's coward ear. 



97 



£)er fretften Gutter frete (Sotjtte, 
©djrotngt tu§ mit feftem 2lngeftd)t 
3«tn @tratjlen(t{3 ber fyodjften ©cfyone! 
Urn anbre kronen Bullet nidjt! 
£te @cl)roejter, bie euc^ §ter tterfdjnmnben, 
£olt i$r im ©$oo§ ber Gutter ein; 
SBas f$one ©eelen fcfyon empfunben, 
9ftn§ trefflidj imb sollfommen few* 
(Sr^efcet euc^ mit fiif)nem gliigel 
£0$ iiBer eurett 3^enlauf! 
gern bammre f$on in eurem ©pteget 
2)a3 fommenbe 3at)tt)mtbevt anf* 
3luf tanfenbfad) »erfrf)hmgnen 2Begen 
2)er retdjen SSJtannigfalttgfett 
$ommt bann nmarmenb euc^ enrgegen 
2lm Zfyvon ber §o§en (Shugfeit! 
2Sie jtdj in fteben milbe (Srratjlen 
£)er rceige ©dimmer liebltdj Bridjt, 
UBie fteben SftegenBogenftraljlen 
3errtnnen in bas toeipe Sidjt, 
(So fpielt in ranfenbfadjer ^larfjett 
Segaubernb nm ben trnnfnen 33Iid, 
©o ftiept in einen 33nnb ber SBafjrfyeit, 
3n einen ©trom beg Stents jnrud! 



©fillers fammtl. SBerfe. I. 



97 

The freest Mother's free-born sons, 

Wing yourselves upward, with undazzled gaze, 

To highest Beauty's throne of rays ! 
Ye need not woo for other crowns ; 
The Sisters, who escape you here, have ever dwelt 

Around the Mother's lap, and there shall welcome 
you. 
What gentle souls as Beautiful have felt, 

That must be Excellent and Perfect too. 
On bold wing seek a loftier sphere 
Above your narrow time-career, 
That on your mirror clear may dawn 
From far the coming century's morn. 
O'er all the thousand winding ways 

Of rich Variety, 
Meet ye at last with glad embrace 

Bound the high throne of Unity ! 
As into seven softer hues 

Shivers the silvery beam of light ; 
As all the seven rainbow hues 

Bun back into the dazzling white ; 
So round the swimming eyes of youth 

With all your glancing witcheries play ; 
So flow into one bond of Truth, 

Into one stream of perfect Day. 

John 8. Dwight. 



POEMS 



OF 



THE THIRD PERIOD. 
LOFC. 



(99) 



pic 'gSegepmtg. 

9fa$ feV id) fie — umringt »cn ioren ^rauen, 
3)ie ^errHcfcfte son alien, ftanb fte ba; 
2£te etne Sonne toar fie anjnfc^auen, 
3d) ftanb son fern unb rcagre mid) nidjt na§. 
©3 fajte micfr mit toolluftootlem ©rauen, 
2ll» id) ben ©lanj oor mtr oeroreitet fajj; 
■Dodj fd)nett, alo Batten ftlitgel mify getragen 
Stgrtjf e3 mid), bte fatten att3ufd)(agen, 

2Sa3 id) in jenem 2IugenoIicf empfunben, 
Unb toa£ ify fang, oergeoen3 ftnn 1 ic^ nad); 
Sin nen Drgan fjatt 1 id) in mtr gefunben, 
Xac meinec ipet^enl f)dfge Sfrgung fpradj; 
5Die Seele toar'e, bte, 3>at)re ^ang geounben, 
£urd) au'e gefietn jet?t anf einmal bradj, 
Unb Z one fanb in iijren tiefften Jiefen, 
£te ungea!)nt unb gottltd) in i$r fd)liefen # 

Unb ale bie ©atten tange febon gefd)totegen, 
£te Seele enblid) mix 3utitde tarn, 
£>a }a1) id) in ben engelgleic&en 3 u gert 
Xie Siebe ringen mit ber poteen Scbam, 
Unb afte £immel gfaubt' i§ 3U etfliegen, 
2U3 id) ba3 letfe, fitfje 20ort ocnabm — 
D broben nur in fel'ger ©eifter (Efyoren 
SSerb 1 id) bes ZomS> 2£ob((aut toieber f)oren! 
(101) 



THE MEETING. 

I still behold her, as she stood surrounded 
By all her train, the fairest of the fair ; 

Her sun-like beauty my weak sense confounded ; 
Aloof I stayed, and gazed, nor ventured near. 

Thro' all my veins a shuddering transport bounded ; 
Mine eyes were blinded by the exceeding glare ; 

I seemed to soar aloft on transport's wings, 

And, moved by maddening impulse, swept the strings. 

The memory of that moment's rapturous feeling, 
And what my song, in vain would I recall ; 

My heart had found an organ new, revealing 
Its every wish — its holiest movements, all : 

My soul, long years its prisoned thoughts concealing, 
Now burst the chains that held it so in thrall, 

And, in its deepest depths, aroused a tone 

Divine, that slumbered long, unfelt, unknown. 

And now, when long had ceased those chords to 
tremble, 

My soul back to itself returning came ; 
Then saw I, in those lines that Heaven resemble, 

Pure Love contending with reluctant shame. 
I seemed to mount where Angel hosts assemble, 

And caught a sound of pure seraphic flame, 
So soft — so sweet, as reach no mortal ears 
But from the hymnings of concordant spheres. 
20 (101) 



102 

„£>ai3 treite iperg, ba3 trofltoS ftdj ^erge^rt, 
Unb jtitt befdjeiben, nte gercagt, ju fpred^en - 
3d) femte ben tfym felbjt serborgnen 2Bert§; 
Sim ro^en ®Iittf null id) bas ©Die radjetu 
S)em 2lrmen fei bag fdjonjie 2oo£ befdjert, 
Sftur £iebe barf ber Stebe S31ume bred)en* 
£)er fc^onfte @d)a|3 gef)ort bem Bergen an, 
£>a$ t^n ernnebern unb empftnben fann*" 



Jin <^tmna. 

SBett in nebetgrauer $erne 

Siegt mtr ba» »ergangtte ®Iu<f, 

9?ur an einem fd)onen <5terne 
SBeilt mit Siebe nod) ber~23Ittf ; 

2Iber rcie be3.<5teme$ ^radjt, 

3ft e$ nur ein ©efyein ber 9ta$r* 

£)ecfte bir ber tange ©glummer, 
£)ir ber Job bte 2htgen gu, 

£)td) befafe bod) mein Summer, 
9fteinem ipergen lebteft bu* 

SIber ad>! bit lefcfHm 2t<$t, 

Reiner Siebe lebft bu ntd)t* 

$ann ber SieBe fitjj SBerfangcn, 
(Smma, fann'6 oerganglid) fetn? 

2Ba3 bafjtn ift nnb oergangen, 
(Smma, fann'6 bte £iebe fetn? 

S^rer %iammt £tmmel3gfutf) — 

©tirbt fte n>te ein irbtfd) ©ut? 



102 > 

" The faithful heart, in grief itself consuming, 
Whom silent modesty forbids to speak, 

I know its worth, howe'er unnoticed blooming, 
And on hard fortune will its vengeance wreak. 

The fairest lot awaits the unpresuming — 
Love's hand alone the flowers of Love may break ; 

And to that heart belongs Love's richest treasure, 

That feels it, and repays in equal measure." 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F. 8. A. 



TO EMMA. 



Far in misty gray enshrouded, 
Now my vanished gladness lies ; 

One pure star alone, unclouded, 
Still attracts my longing eyes. 

Like the stars, alas ! its light 

Beams but through the gloom of night. 

Had thy last long sleep oppressed thee, 
Had stern Death thine eyelids closed, 

Still my grief would have possessed thee, 
In my heart thou hadst reposed. 

But thou livest, bright and free, 

Livest — not, alas ! to me. 

Can sweet hopes of Love's inspiring, 
Emma ! can they transient prove ? 

What is past, long since expiring, 
Emma ! say, can that be Love ? 

Can its flame of heavenly glow 

Perish, like our joys below ? 

Florence. 



103 



pas $ei)eimttifi. 

<3ie fonnte mir !ein 2B6rtd)en fagen, 

3u siefe Saufdjer roaren toad) ; 
£)en SBlitf nur burff t$ fdjiidjtern fragen, 

Unb wofyl serftanb tdj, wag er fpradj, 
£eid fomm' tdj fyer in beine ©title, 

■Dit fdjon belauBted SBudjen^elt, 
SSerMrg in beiner griinen JpitCe 

£)ie SieBenben bem Slug' ber SBelt! 

SSon feme mit t>ertt>orrnem ©aufen 

Strbeitet ber gefdjaft'ge £ag, 
Unb burd) ber ©timmen tyotyles 33raufen 

Srfcnn' id) fdjwerer spammer ©djlag* 
(Bo fauer ringt bie fargett Coofe 

£)er 9ftenfdj bem tjarten £tmmet afc, 
£)o$ letdjt erworfcen, and bem (Sdjoofje 

£)er hotter fattt bad ©Hid tyeraK 

£)a£j ja bie 9ftenfdjen nte ed tjoren, 

2Bie treue iW un$ \M Begliidtl 
(Sie fonnen nur bie greube ftoren, 

SBetl ^reube nte fte felfcft entgitcft* 
£>ie SBelt mirb nie bad ©titd erlaufcen, 

Slid 23eure mirb ed nur getyafcfyt; 
Sntttjenben mugt bu'd ober raufcen, 

(£$ bidj bie 9ftifj gunjl it&errafdjt* 

Seid auf ben 3^e« fommt'd gef^tidjen, 
£)te ©tide liebt ed unb bie 9fat<$t ; 

STOft fdjnetten $u§en ift 1 d entandjen, 
SBo bed 23errat§erd Sluge toafyt. 



103 



THE SECRET. 

She sought to breathe one word, but vainly — 

Too many listeners were nigh ; 
And yet my timid glance read plainly 

The language of her speaking eye. 
Thy silent glades my footstep presses, 

Thou fair and leaf-embosomed grove I 
Conceal within thy green recesses 

From mortal eye our sacred love ! 

Afar with strange discordant noises, 

The busy day is echoing ; 
And, 'mid the hollow hum of voices, 

I hear the heavy hammer ring. 
'Tis thus that man, with toil ne'er-ending, 

Extorts from Heaven his daily bread ; 
Yet oft unseen the Gods are sending 

The gifts of fortune on his head ! 

Oh, let mankind discover never 

How true love fills with bliss our hearts ! 
They would but crush our joy forever, 

For joy to them no glow imparts. 
Thou ne'er wilt from the world obtain it — 

'Tis never captured save as prey ; 
Thou needs must strain each nerve to gain it, 

E'er Envy dark asserts her sway. 

The hours of night and stillness loving, 

It comes upon us silently — 
Away with hasty footstep moving 

Soon as it sees a treach'rous eye. 



104 

£) fringe bictj, bu fanfte £)netle, 
@in Breiter ©trom urn ung ^crum, 

Unb brofyenb mit emporter SBefle 
SSert^eibige bteg ipeiligtfmm ! 



pie c^rtDartag. 

£6r' t$ bag $fortdjen nic^t ge^en? 

£at nidjtber Sfttegel geflirrt? 

9Mn, eg h?ar beg SBinbeg SBetjen, 
£>er burd) biefe $appem fdjmirrt. 

ID f^ntutfe M$, bu grim Maubteg Dad), 
Du fottjl bie $nmurt)gjtra1jlenbe empfangen! 
3tjr 3^ e ^ e ^ ^ aut e * n f^attenbeg ©emadj, 
9JUt ^olber Sfaidjt (le^etmltdj su umfangen! 
Unb atP itjr ©^mci^cllufte, merbet n?adj 
Unb fdjetgt unb fptelt urn i$te 9tofentt>angen, 
SSenn feme f^one 23urbe, leidjt fcetoegt, 
2)er gartc §u§ jum @i£ ber £ieBe tragi. 

©title! $3as fdjmpft bur$ bie £etfeit 
Sftafdjetnb mit eilenbem Sauf ? 

Sfteitt, eg fdjeudjte nur ber ©djreclen 
Slug bem 23ufd) ben 23ogel auf* 

D Iofdje beine ftadd, Sag! ipersor 
£)u geiffge Vlafyt, mitbeinem ^olben ©djtteigen! 
23reit urn ung ^er ben purpurrotfyen glor, 
Umfpinn' ung mit getyeintntjj&ou'en B^eigen! 
£)er Siebe SBonne fliefyt beg £auf$ergDf)r, 
©ie fliet)t beg <5tra{)leg unfcefdjetbtten 3^gen$* 
*ftur £efper ber 23erfd)toiegene, atlein 
£)arf (litt ^erblidenb ijjr 2$ertrauter feiiu 



104 

Thou gentle stream, soft circlets weaving, 

A watery barrier cast around, 
And, with thy waves in anger heaving, 

Guard from each foe this holy ground I 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



EXPECTATION. 

Hear I the portal not flying ? 

Hear I the latchet not fall ? 
No, 'tis but the Zephyr sighing 

Gently through the poplars tall ! 

Put on thy fairest dress, thou leafy grove, 
To welcome her sweet face its charms displaying ! 

Ye branches, weave a shady roof above, 
When she, at eve's soft hour, is hither straying ! 

And all ye balmy winds, that sportive rove, 

Awake, and round her blushing cheeks 'gin playing, 

Soon as her foot, all gently moving on, 

Its beauteous burden bears to Love's own throne I 

Hark to yon sound that seems parting 
The bushes, and hastening near ! — 

No, 'tis but the bird up-starting 
From the copse, in sudden fear ! 

Oh, quench thy torch, bright Day ! And thou, pale 
Night, 

With thy propitious silence o'er us hover ! 
Around us 'spread a veil of purple light ! 

Let mystic boughs our blissful meeting cover ! 
From listeners' ears, Love's raptures take their flight, 

They fly when Phoebus' beams the world rule over ; 
For Hesperus alone, who silently 
X3asts down his rays, their confidant can be 1 



105 

Sttef eg oon feme nidjt leife, 

glitfternben ©rimmen gleidj ? 

Stfein, ber (Seaman ift'g, ber bte $reife 
3ie()et bnrcfy ben (gxil&erteid). 

9fletn £)r)r nmtont etn iparmonteenfIu§, 
Der ©pringquett fatlt mit angenefcmem ^ftanfefyen, 
Die 23mme neigt fttf) Bet beg 2$efteg tfug, 
Unb afte SBefen fet) 1 id) SBonne tanfefyen; 
5Dtc ZxauU roinft, bie $ftrf$e mm ®enn§, 
Die itppig fcfyroetfenb Winter flatter lanfdjen; 
Die Suft, getand)t in ber ©eroiiqe $Intf), 
Zxxntt oon ber ^eijjen 2Bange mix bie ©Intr)* 

£bV idj ntdjt Xritte erfdjalten? 

Staufdjt'S nidjt ben Sanbgang barker? 
Sftein, bte $rud)t tft bort gefallen, 
23on ber eignen giitfe fcfyroer* 

Deg £ageg ^lammenange feloer oridjt 
3n fafem Xob, nnb feme garden olajfen! 
$itfm offnen jtdj tm rjolben Dammerlicfyt 
Die ^etcfye fd^ott, bie feine ©Intfjen fjaffen. 
©till t)eot ber SSflonb fein ftratylenb 2mgefidjt, 
Die SBelt gerfd)milgt in rnf)ig gro£e SSftaffen; 
Der (Mrtel ift oon jebem Stei^ geloft, 
Unb aiteg ©d)one geigt jtdj mir entbloft 

<Ser/ idj nid)tg 2Bei§eg bort fdjimmern? 

©tangt'g nicfyt rote feibneg ©eroanb ? 
Sftein, eg ift ber ©ante glimmem 
2ln ber bnnleln Sarngroanb* 

D fefjnenb £erj, ergo£e bi$ ntcfjt mefjr, 
SRit fitfjen 53ilbern roefenlog an fpielen! 
Der 2lrm, ber fie urn fa (fen will, ift leer, 



105 

Hear I not soft whispers cleaving 

The air as the echoes they wake ? 
No, 'tis but the cygnet weaving 

Circlets in the silvery lake I 

A flood of harmony mine ear assails, — 

The fountain's gush with murmur sweet is falling — 
The west wind's balmy kiss the flow'ret hails, — 

And all creation smiles with joy enthralling ; 
The purple grape, the luscious peach that veils, 

'Neath sheltering leaves, its charms, seems softly 
calling ; 
The incense-bearing Zephyrs, as they blow, 
Drink from my burning cheeks their fiery glow ! 

Down through yon laurel-walk rushing, 

Hear not I footsteps resound ? 
No, 'tis but the fruit all-blushing, 

Falling ripened to the ground ! 

In gentle death now sinks Day's naming eye, 
And all his gorgeous hues are fast declining ; 

The flowers, that 'neath his fiery ardor sigh, 
Open their cups, when twilight soft 'gins shining ; 

The moon her silver beams sheds silently, — 
The world in shadows dim its form is shrining ; 

Each charm its circling zone now lays aside, 

And Beauty stands disclosed in modest pride ! 

Is't not a white form advancing ? 

Gleams not its soft-rustling train ? 
No, 'tis but the yew-trees glancing 

Yon dim columns back again ! 

With sweet but airy dreams like these to play, 
No longer be content, thou bosom panting ! 
No shadowy bliss my heart's mad thirst can stay — 



106 

$ein (S^attenglittf fann btefen SSufett fu^Ten, 

D fii^re mix bte Menbe bafyer, 

8a j ifyre £anb, tie gartlidje, mid) futjlen! 

£)en <Sd)atren nnr son t^re^ yJianttU <&aum — 

Unb in ba3 SeBen triti ber §o-§e Xxaum. 

Unb lets, tute cms fyimmtifdjen Jpo^en 
S)te ©tunbe be3 ©fiides erfcfyeint, 
©o mar fte genafjt, ungefe^en, 
Unb mecfre mit Stiffen ben greunb. 



5>er Jiettb. 

9lad) cinem ©emalbe. 

©enfe, ftraMenber ©ott — bte ^furen biirfrett 
Sftafy erqmtfenbem STtyau, ber SWeufdj serfdj master, 
Scatter sie^ert bie SRoffe — 
©enfe ben 28agen f)inaM 

(SteJje, foer cms be3 Sfteers fr^ftaftner SBoge 
SieWidj IcttMnb bir nunft! (Srfennt bein ^)ers jte? 
Staffer fltcgcn bte SRojfe, 
Sterns, bte gottftdje, tt>infU 

<S$neII ttom SBagen fjerafc in i^re SIrme 
©pringt ber gutter, ben 3««^ ergretft Snpibo, 
©title fallen bte Stofife, 
£rinfen bie fitfylenbe gtut^ 

5ln bem ipimmel Ijerauf mit letfen ©Written 
Stomxrit bie buftenbe 9tadjt; if* fotgt bie fitfe 
£iebe. Sftu^et unb Uefcet! 
$)l)6&ng, ber tiebenbe, xu$U 



106 

She whom this arm would clasp, alas, is wanting ! 
Oh, guide her living, breathing charms this way ! 

Oh, let me press her hand, with joy enchanting ! 
The very shadow of her mantle's seam — 
But lo ! — a form of life assumes my dream ! 

And as, from the Heavens descending, 
Appears the sweet moment of bliss, 

In silence her steps thither bending, 
She wakened her love with a kiss ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring, 



EVENING. 

(AFTER a picture.) 

Sink thou far-darting God ! the fields are thirsting 
For the refreshing dew. Men droop and languish ; 
Wearily drag the horses — 
Sink thy spent chariot below ! 

See ! who, forth from the ocean's crystal billows, 
Sweetly upon thee smiles ? does thy bosom own her ? 

Cheerily fly the horses — 

Tethys, the Goddess smiles. 

Swiftly the charioteer from forth his chariot 
Springs to her arms. The reins are seized by Cupid ; 

Still stand the willing horses, 

Drinking the cooling flood. 

Over the azure floor with silent footsteps 
Fragrant night draws on. Sweet Love behind her 

Follows. Best then, ye lovers ! 

Phoebus, the lover, rests. 

John Herman Merioale, Esq., F.S.A. 



107 



Jeljtifitdji 

s 

21$, au$ btefeS Zfyahd (Mnben, 

£)ie ber falte «KeM briicft, 
^onnt 1 i$ bo$ ben 2luggang ftnben, 

51$, hue fu^U' i$ mi$ Begtiicftl 
£)ort erBItcf^ i$ fd)one £mge{, 

Stoig jitng nnb emig gritn ! 
£art' t$ ©cfynnngen, ^att 1 id) ^liigel, 

9k$ ben £itgeln $og' i$ Jim 

Jparmonieen IjbV t$ flingen, 

£one fitfjer £>tmmel3rut), 
Unb bie leid)ten SBtnbe bringen 

SBlix ber Diifte S3arfam gu, 
©otbne grii$te fe^ 1 i$ gliiljen, 

SBinfenb 3«nf$en bnnlelm %avib, 
Unb bie SBIumett, bie bort Mufjett, 

SBerben feineS 33Mnter$ 9tauK 

21$, tote f$on ntuf (tdj's ergetjen 

£)ort im eto'gen @onnenf$ein! 
Unb bie Suft auf jcncn ^o^en — . 

£), rote lafienb mu$ fte fein! 
2)o$ mir roeljrt beg ©trome3 £o£en, 

Der ergrtmmt bagrotf$en orauftj 
(Seine SBetfen ftnb ge^oben, 

S)af bie @eele mir ergrauft 

(Sinen 9?a$en fetj' i$ f$roanfen, 
2(6er, a$! ber gai)rmann fejlt* 

grif$ f)inein unb o§ne 2£anfen! 
(Seine @egel ftnb fcefeeft* 



107 



LOGGINGS. 

Prom this valley's gloomy hollow, 

Where the chilling vapors rest, 
Could I find a path to follow, 

Ah, how glad I were, and blest ! 
Yonder swell the hills in brightness, 

Green with ever-youthful spring : 
Soon I'd tread their slopes with lightness, 

Could I mount on soaring wing. 

Harmonies, melodious blending, 

There are breathing heavenly calm ; 
Gentle breezes hither wending 

Waft the fragrancy of balm. 
Golden fruitage there is glowing, 

Hidden half in leafy gloom ; 
Richest flowers, sweetly blowing, 

Dread no frost to rob their bloom. 



O, how sweet forever straying 

In the sun's unclouded light, 
Purest gales around me playing, 

Panning fresh from every height I 
But, alas ! the swollen torrent 

Roars with foaming might along, 
And its angry whirling current 

Soon would whelm the swimmer strong. 

See 1 yon drifting bark is nearing ; 

But, alas ! the helmsman fails ! 
Cheerly in, though, nothing fearing ; 

Blessed souls will swell the sails \ 



108 

£>n tttnfjt gTauBen, bn mugt toagen, 
£)enn tie ©otter Ieityn fetn $fanb; 

9?nr ein 2Bnnber fann btd^ tragen 
3n ba$ fc^otte SBnnberlanb* 



per ^ifgrim. 

Sftodj in metneS SeoenS Settle 
2Bar idj, nnb idj toanberf au$, 

Unb ber 3«genb frotje Xdnge 
Sieg idj in beg Waters £au$, 

21 tl mein ©rJ6t^etI, nteine £>aBe 
SGarf i$ frofjltdj gtan&enb §in, 

Unb am Ieid)ten $tlgerftabe 
3og idj fort mit ^inberftnn* 

£)enn midj trieb ein madjtig Jpoffen 
Unb ein bnnfled (Slanbenstoort, 

SBanbte, rief'3, ber 2Beg ift often, 
3ntnter nad) bem Slnfgang fort* 

33is sn einer golbnen $forten 
Du getangft, ba gefyft bu ein, 

£)enn bas 3rbifdje totrb borten 
£immlifdj, nnoergangltd) feun 

2lbenb toarb^ nnb tourbe Sftorgen, 
dimmer, nintmer ftanb idj ftitf ; 

5Iber immer blteb'S oerborgen, 
2BaS idj fudje, tt?as icfy toiU. 

23erge tagen mir im 2Bege, 
©trome ^emmten meinen $uf, 

Ueber ©djlitnbe banf idj ©tege, 
S3rii(fen bnrdj ben toitben %lu$. 



108 

Summon all thy faith and daring ; 

Heaven will pledge no helping hand ; 
Trust some wondrous angel's bearing 

Thee to yon bright Wonder-land ! 

William JEZ". Channing. 



THE PILGRIM. 

Life's first beams were bright around me 

When I left my father's cot, 
Breaking every tie that bound me 

To that dear and hallowed spot. 

Childish hopes and youthful pleasures, 
Freely I renounced them all ; 

Went in quest of nobler treasures, 
Trusting to a higher call. 

Eor to me a voice had spoken, 

And a Spirit seemed to say, 
Wander forth ! — the path is broken, 

Yonder, eastward lies thy way. 

Rest not till a golden portal 

Thou hast reached ; — there enter in, 
And what thou hast prized as mortal, 

There, immortal life shall win. 

Evening came and morn succeeded, 

On I sped and never tired ; 
Cold, nor heat, nor storm I heeded, 

Boundless hope my soul inspired. 

Giant cliffs rose up before me, 

Horrid wilds around me lay, 
O'er the cliffs my spirit bore me, 

Through the wilds I forced my way ; 



109 

Unb pt exited (Stroma ©efiaben 
Stam id), ber m§ Bergen flof ; 

gro^ ttertranenb feinem gaben, 
SBerf id) mid) in [emeu <Sd)oo{^ 

£>in $n einem grofen Sfteere 
£rie6 midj fettter $3e(ien (Spiel; 

35or mir liegf 3 in toeiter Seere, 
9Ut)er bin i<§ nid)t bem 3«t» 

21$, !ein (3 teg null bal)in fiit)ren, 
2ldj, ber £>immef iiber mir 

3BtH bie Srbe nie Berii^ren, 
Unb ba3 bort ijt niemala §ierl 



Jie gbeafe. 

(So t»itfjl bn trenlos yon mir fdjetben 
Sftit beinen ^olben $t)antaften, 
Sftit beinen S^mer^en, beinen ^renben, 
9Jcit alien nnerBittlid) fTie^n? 
^ann ntdjte bid), glieljenbe, ttertoeilen, 
ID meines SeBen* golbrte 3eit% 
2Sergeften3, beine SQelTen eilen 
Jpinab in£ SSfteer ber Snugfeit 

(Erlofc^en ftnb bie f)eirern (Bonnen, 
Die meiner 3«genb $fab ert)eUt; 
Die 3beale ftnb ^erronnen, 
Die einft bag trnnfne iper^ gefdjroefft;* 



* Sm -.SSJlufenalmanadj sum <jafir 1796, too Me3 ©ebidjt juerit erf^iett, 
fhtbet ftd) na$ biefen SSorten foijenue ©tette: 

S)te fd)bne yrucfct, bie faum ju feintea 
ffiegamt, fca iiegt fte fdjon erjlarrt 



109 

Came to where a mighty river 

Eastward rolled its sullen tide ; 
Forth I launched with bold endeavor, — 

"Pilgrim stream, be thou my guide I" 

It hath brought me to the ocean, 

Now, upon the wide, wide sea, 
Where's the land of my devotion ? 

What I seek seems still to flee. 

Woe is me ! no path leads thither, 

Earth's horizons still retreat ; 
Yonder never will come hither, 

Sea and sky will never meet ! 

Frederic H. Hedge. 



THE IDEALS. 

Thus wilt thou, faithless, from me sever ? — 

With all thy phantoms of delight, 
Thy cares, thy joys — with all, forever, 

Inexorable, take thy flight ? 
Can nought, thou fleeting one, detain thee, 

Thou golden hour of vernal pride ? 
Ah no ! Time's billows swift entrain thee 

Down to Eternity's fall tide. 

Extinguished are the suns that lighted 
My path of youth with ray serene, 

And all the gay Ideals blighted 
That swelled my ravished heart yestreen.* 



* In the MiiserirAlmanach of 1796, where this poem originally ap- 
peared, after these words the following lines occur : 

The beauteous fruit, that scarce had blossomed, 
Lie3 sere and dead now at my feet ; 

21 



110 

(gr i(l ba$ht, ber fitgc ©laufte 
Sin SBefen, bie mem STraum-gefcar, 
£)er rauf^en $3irfM)feit gum Sftaufce, 
2Bas einft fo fcfyon, fo gottltd) n?ar. 

$3ie einft mil fleljenbem SBertangen 
3)9gmation ben ©tern umfcfylog, 
23ig in beg SftarmorS falte 2Bangen 
(Smpfmbung glittjenb fid) ergog, 
©o fd)Iang id) nttdj mit SiekSarmen 
Urn bie yiatux, mit 3ugenblujt, 
53tS fie gu atfymen, gu erraarmen 
S3egann an meiner £)id)terl>rujfc, 

Unb, tfyeitenb meine $Iammentrie£e, 
£)te <Stumme erne &pxadqt fanb, 
Sftir nuebergafc ben $tu$ ber SieBc 
Unb meiner ipergenS $lang tterftanb; 
£)a Iefcte mir ber Sanrn, bie SRofe, 
Sftir fang ber Quetten ©tlfcerfafl, 
(£g finite felfcji bag ©eclenlofe 
$on metneg SeBeng 2£ieber!jau\ 

(£g befmte mit aftmacfyf gem (Streften 
£)ie enge 23ruft ein freifenb W&, 
JSperangwtreten in bag £eben, 
3n S^at nnb 2Bort, in ^tlb nnb <Sd)afl* 
2Bie gro§ to ax biefe SBelt geftaltet, 
©0 lang bie $nofpe fie nodj Barg; 



2ftid) toedft aa3 metnen frofien £raumett 
SKit raufyem 5lrm bie ©egettroart. 

3)te 2Dirftidjreit mit i&ren ©tyramen 
Umtagert ben gebunbnen @etft. 
@ie ftitrjt, bie ©cfjopfung ber ©ebantou 
2)er 2)id)tuug fd)ihtev glor jerreijjt. 



iio 

'Tis fled — the sweet belief, that rested 
On forms creative Fancy dreamed ; 

By Truth of all those charms divested 
That late so fair, so godlike seemed. 

As erst with passionate imploring 

Pygmalion clasped the chiselled stone, 
Till floods of warm sensation pouring 

Through all its marble features shone ; 
So I — with Love's fond arms enwreathing — 

In youthful ardor Nature pressed, 
Until to new existence breathing, 

She kindled on my Poet-breast. 

Oh ! then her bosom's mutual burning 

The Dumb-one made by language known, 
And, Love's enraptured kiss returning, 

Gave back my heart its deepest tone. 
Then Life was in the tree — the flower ; 

The silver fount in music fell ; 
Whilst ev'n the inanimate had power 

The soul's responsive notes to swell. 

The breast, its narrow confines leaving, 
Burst forth — a world wide circling round — 

For life with mightiest impulse heaving 
In act and word, in shape and sound. 

How vast that world by Fancy moulded, 
"Whilst lurking in the bud unseen I 



The present wakes me, roughly shaking, 
Wakes me, alas ! from dreams so sweet. 

The captive spirit is surrounded 

By stern, confined reality. 
It falls— great Thought's creation : rending 

The charming veil of Poesy. 



Ill 

2£te ttentg, ad) ! fjat fid) entfatter, 
5Die3 SBentge, »ie flein unb fargl* 

$3ie [prang, icon fufynem 9ftuttj Beftiigett, 
SBegtitcft in feine3 Zxaumtv SBatjn, 
S3on feiner ©orge nod) gepgelt, 
£)er 3iingling in be3 SebenS 33ar>tt* 
23is an bes 2letljer3 Metcfyfte ©terne 
(£rf)OD tfjn ber (gnrnmrfe Slug; 
9ftd)t3 war fo fyod) nnb ntcfyte fo feme, 
SBoIjtn t§r gliigel ifyn ntdjt trug» 

SSMe leidjt tt>arb er batjin getragen, 
2Ba3 war bem ©liid ttdjen gn fdbmer! 
393ie tan^te sor be3 SebenS 28agen, 
£)ie tufttge Seglettung $er! 
£>ie £ieBe mit bent fiijjjen 2of)ne, 
£)a$ ©liicf nut feinent golbnen ^ranj, 
£)er ^uftm mit feiner ©ternenfrone, 
2)ie SBaljrtyeit in ber ©onne ©fang! 

S)o$, ac^! fdjott auf bes 2Bcge3 9JMtte 
25erloren bie 33egletter fidi, 
@ie toanbten treulo* tt)re <3d)rtrte, 
Unb einer nadj bem anbern toidj* 
£eid)tfiifng war ba3 ©littf entflogen, 
£>e$ SBiffenS £)urj* fcUeo ungeftillt, 



' £ier folgt in ber erften STuSgape bte ©tro^e: 
2Bie au$ be$ Serges jtiffeit QueCett 
Sin Strom bte Urne fangfam fit lit, 
Unb jefct mit fortigU&en 2Betktt 
S)te Robert lifer itberfdtroiat; 
g» werfen Stetne, gelfenlaftett 
Unb ©atber jt$ in feiite ©a6n. 
@r aber ftitrjt mit jtoljen Sftaftert 
©id) raufdjenb in ben Dcean! 
@o fcrang «. 



Ill 

How little when its flower unfolded ! — 
That little — ah ! how vile and mean !* 

So, winged for flight of loftiest boldness, 

And wrapt in dreams to Fancy dear, 
Unchecked by doubt, or caution's coldness, 

The youth sprang forth on Life's career. 
That venturous flight his soul supported 

To iEther's faintest twinkling star, 
And for the joys his pinions courted 

Was nought too high, and nought too far. 

How light the car of Life upbore him, 

With nought his mounting flight to stay, 
Whilst in bright escort danced before him 

The aerial comrades of his way. 
Love with his sweet rewards attending, 

Fortune, with wreath of golden gleam, 
Glory, her radiant star-crown lending, 

And Truth, enrobed in sunny beam. 

But ah ! the fickle troop already 
Dispersed, ere half the race was run, 

Veered round in wavering flight unsteady, 
And vanished, faithless, one by one. 

Away light-footed Fortune bounded ; 
Unquenched the thirst of knowledge stayed ; 



* Here, in the first edition, follows the strophe : 

As from the mountain's quiet fountain 

A stream the urn is filling slow, 
But soon with great, majestic billows 

Its lofty banks doth overflow ; 
Huge boulders, forests, all endeavor 

To stay the mad and thundering race ; 
Yet heeding nought, it rushes onward 

Into the Ocean's wild embrace ; 
So, winged, etc. 



112 

£>e3 3toetfets§ ftnflrc SBetter aogett 
©id) urn ber SBafyrtyeit @onnenfcilb- 

3$ ffe$ ^e3 Sftu^mes tjetf ge $ran$e 
2luf ber gemeinen ©tiro' entwei^t. 
21$, attjufdjnett, na$ fur^em Senge 
©ntflof) bie fdjone £tefceg$ettl 
Unb intnter (litter warVs unb immer 
SSerlaffner auf bent raufjen (Steg ; 
$aum rcarf no$ etnen fcleidjen (Shimmer 
S)tc ipoffnung auf ben fmftern 2Beg* 

5Son aft bent raufdjenben ©elette 
2Ber tjarrte liebenb bet mir au$$ 
SBer (&|t nttr troftettb ttodj pr <5eite 
Unb fotgt mir Ms $um fmftern £au$? 
SDu, bie bu atte SSunben J)eileft, 
<Der $reunbfd)aft leife, jarte ipanb, 
£)e$ Se&ettS 33itrben liefcenb ttyeileft, 
2)u, bte id) fritfje (itdjt 1 unb fanb. 

Unb bu, bte gem ftdj ntit tfjr gattet, 
SBie fte, ber @eele <Sturnt fcef^roort, 
23efdjaftigung, bie nie erntattet, 
2)ie langfant fd)afft, bodj nie serjiort, 
2)te ju bent 23au ber Sttrigfeiten 
Qtoax ©anblorn nur fitr ©anbforn ret$t, 
£>odj son ber grofen <Sd)ulb ber 3^« 
Sflinuten, Stage, 3a^re ftretd)t. 



2>es 'gftabdjetts $fage. 

£)er ®td)»alb Braufet, bie SBolfen afe^tt, 
£)a$ Mgblein flfcet an Uferg ®ritn; 
<E* *ri^t (I* bte SBette ntit 2Ra$t, ntit SWa^t, 



112 

And Doubt's deep-lowering storm surrounded 
Truth's sun-bright form with gloomiest shade. 

I saw the hallowed wreath of glory- 
Profaned by brows of vulgar clay ; 

Love all too soon had told his story, 
And vanished with the flowers of May. 

And ever stiller grew, and ever 
More lonely yet, the rugged road, 

And scarcely Hope one faint endeavor 
To light the dreamy path bestowed. 

Of all the tribe so swift careering, 

Who kindly stayed with me to dwell ? 
Who still abides, my death-bed cheering, 

And follows to the darksome cell ? 
Thou, Friendship, thou, who gently bearest 

The healing touch for every wound — 
Thou, who Life's burthen kindly sharest — 

The early sought and lasting found. 

Thou too, his mate, with him conspiring 

To quell the bosom's rising storm, 
Employment — thou, the never-tiring, 

Who toilsome shap'st, nor break'st the form ! 
Eternity's huge pile increasing, 

As grain on grain the fabric rears, 
And, from Time's mighty debt, unceasing, 

Still striking minutes, days and years ! 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



THE MAIDEN'S LAMENT. 

The clouds are flitting, the oak woods roar, 
And the maiden is sitting on Ocean's shore. 
The waves of the Sea dash mightily, 



113 

Unb fte feufet fynaus in bie ftnfke Vlafyt, 
£)a6 $uge t>on SBeinen getriibet: 

„£)as £erg ijl geftorben, bte 2Mt tft leer, 
Unb setter gtbt fie bem SBunfdje nidjts metyr, 
£)u £etltge, rufe beirt $inb guriitf, 
3$ ^abe genoffen ba3 irbifcfye ©(itdf, 
3$ ^aBe getebt unb geliebet!" 

G?g rinnct ber ZWdntn sergeMtdjer £auf, 
■Die $tage, fte medet bte 5Tobtett ntdjt auf ; 
£)od) nenne, tt>a3 troftet unb tjeifet bte 33rujt 
yiafy ber fug en Siebe »erfd)tt>unbener Sufi, 
3$, bie £immlifdje, null's nitfyt oerfagen. 

„Saf rinnen ber Straiten ttergebtidjen Sauf! 
(£3 tDcdfc bte $fage ben £obten nitf)t auf! 
2)a3 fufjefle ®IM fiir bte trauernbe 53rufl 
Waft) ber fd)6nen £iebe tterfdjnmnbener Sufi 
©tub ber Stebe (Scfymer^en unb ^lagen*" 



J)cr gmtgfincj am ^>ad)C. 

Sin ber OneUe fag ber ^nabe, 

33(nmen n»anb er ftdj ^utn ^rang, 
Unb er fatj fte, fortgertffen, 

Xreiben in ber SMen £an$* 
Unb fo flie^en meine £age, 

$8te bte Ouelle, raft!o» $tn! 
Unb fo bleicfyet metne 3ugenb, 

SBie bie Grange fdjnett serMutjn* 

^raget tttd)t, warum icfy traure 
3n be3 £eben3 ^Blitt^en^eit! 

SttteS freuet ftcb unb I) offer, 
SBenn ber grueling ftdj erneut 

©differs fammtt. 2Berfe. I. 8 



113 

And the murky night long still sigheth she, 
The tears in her dim eye moving ; 

" My heart's bliss hath perished ; the world is a void ; 
With nought to be cherished, or hoped, or enjoyed. 
Thou holy one, call thy poor child back again ! 
The cup of Earth's bliss 'twas allowed me to drain. 
I have lived, and lived for loving." 

The tears thou art weeping stream, sad one, in vain. 
Tears woo not the sleeping in death back again ! 
But say, what can comfort and heal the torn breast, 
When Love is departed — its once-cherished guest ? 
From the Heavenly fear no denying ! 

"Let the tears I am weeping stream on, though in 

vain ; 
True, they wake not the sleeping in death once again — 
But the sweetest of balm for the sorrowing breast, 
When Love is departed — its once-cherished guest — ■ 
Is Love's bitter wailing and sighing." 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



THE YOUTH BY THE BKOOK 

By the brook the youth reclining, 

Twined sweet flowers in a wreath, 
And he saw them hurried onwards 

By the dancing waves beneath. 
" Thus, alas, my days fleet swiftly, 

"Like the restless billows past ! 
" Thus my youth's sweet prime decayeth, 

4 ' Like the wreaths that wither fast. 

"Ask me not why thus I sorrow 
" In the verdant bloom of life ! 

"All, when Spring her smile reneweth, 
" Is with hope and pleasure rife. 



114 

516 er biefe taufenb <2Hmmen 

3)er ertoacfyenben 9ktur 
SBecfen in bem ttefen 33ufett 

SfTtir ben fd)toeren Summer nur. 

2Ba£ foil mix bie ^reube frommen, 

£)ie ber fd)one 2en$ mtr oeut? 
dim nnr ift's, bie id) fudje, 

@ie ift nalj 1 unb etoig welt 
©eljnenb breit 1 t(^ meinc 2lrme 

9tadj bem ttjeuren ©djattenotlb, 
2ld), tdj fann e3 ntdjt erreidjen, 

Unb bag Jperj bleiot wtgejlttft! 

Stomm $erao, bn fcfjone £olbe, 

Unb oerlaj? bein (triCyft ©djlof! 
SBlumen, bie ber 2enj geboren, 

©treu 1 ic^ bir in beinen @djoofj. 
£ord), ber $axn erfdjatlt oon Stebern, 

Unb bie Quelle riefelt liar! 
3taum ift in ber fleinften ipiitte 

giir ein gliidlid) lieoenb $aar* 



5te $im|I 6es tStogenBlIdte. 

Unb fo ftnben rotr ung toieber 
3n bem tyeitern bunren Sftetljn, 

Unb eg foil ber $ran$ ber Sieber 
grtfcfy unb grim geflod)ten fein* 

5lber toem ber ©otter bringen 
2Btr beg Siebeg erflert 3oE? 

3l)m oor alien lajjt ung fingen, 
£)er bie greube fdjaffen fou\ 



114 

" But the thousand songs of Nature, 
" Waking from her dreary sleep, 

"Do but raise a heavy sadness 
" In my bosom's lowest deep. 

" What to me are all the raptures 

" Smiling round Spring's verdant car ? 
" One I seek, and but one only, 

" She is near, yet ever far. 
" Fain would I this lovely vision 

"In my longing arms enclose, 
"But, alas, I cannot clasp it, 

"And my heart finds no repose ! 

" Come descend, thou lovely fair one, 

" And thy stately palace leave ! 
" Flowers, which the spring hath borne thee, 

" Thou shalt in thy lap receive. 
"Purling flows the crystal streamlet, 

" Hark ! with song resounds the air ; 
" Space the smallest cot possesseth 

" For a happy loving pair." 

Alfred Baskerville, 



THE FAYOE OF THE MOMENT. 

So, at length, once more we meet 
In the Muses' glad domain ! 

Let us twine a garland sweet, 

Fit to grace their brows again ! 

To what God shall we now bring 
Earliest tribute of our lays ? — 

Let us first His glory sing, 

Who with bliss our toil repays. 



115 

T>mn toa$ frommt eg, bag mtt Sefcen 
(£ereg ben SUtar gefdjmiicft? 

2)a§ ber $urpurfaft ber Steben 
SBacdjuS in bie @d)ale briicft? 

3iidt ttom £immet ntdjt ber ftunten, 
£)er ben £erb in glammen fe£t, 

3ft ber ©eift nicfyt fenertrnufen, 
Unb bag £er3 Metbt unergBjjfc 

2ht3 ben SBotfen mug eg fallen, 
5htg ber (hotter ©djoog bag ®ttttf, 

Unb ber madjtigjle son alien 
£errfcfyem ift ber Sfagenfclid. 

SSon bent aUererften SCerben 

£)er nnenblid^en 9tatur, 
2Weg ©ottUc&e anf (Srben 
3ft ein Stcfytgebanfe nnr» 

£angfam in bem Sanf ber £oreit 
gitget fld) ber <Stein gum (Stein, 

(Scfynetl, tr-ie eg ber ©eift gefcoren, 
SBitt bag SBerf empfunben fein* 

SBte im Ijetlen (SonnenBlttfe 
(Bid) ein garfrenteppicfy wefct, 

SBie anf i$rer bunten 33riicfe 
3rig burd) ben £immel fdjmefJt, 

Bo ift jebe fcfyone ®ak 

Olucfytig roie beg 23lt£eg (Serein; 
©cfynefl in ifyrem bitftern ©rafce 

©cpejH bie 9k$t fie uneber tin,. 



115 

What avails it that a Soul 

Ceres breathes into the shrine ? 

That great Bacchus brims the bowl 
With the red blood of the vine ? 

If that spark which sets on fire 

Mortal hearths, comes not from high, 
Joy will ne'er the soul inspire, 

And the heart will vainly sigh. 

From the clouds must fortune fall, 

From the lap of Deities ; 
And the mightiest Lord of all 

Is the moment as it flies. 

'Mongst the things that have their birth 
'Neath eternal Nature's sway, 

Nought is godlike here on earth, 

Save the Thought's all-piercing ray. 

Slowly stone and stone unite, 
As the circling seasons roll ; 

But our work will see the light 
Soon as fashioned by the soul. 

As the sunlight's radiant glow 

Weaves a golden tapestry — 
As upon her gorgeous bow 

Iris quivers in the sky, 

So each gift that joys the heart 
Fleeteth as a gleam of light ; 

Soon for aye it must depart 

To the darksome tomb of night. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



116 

te Slbgrunb Tcttet ber fdjminbtt$te ©teg, 

(£r fitfyrt attufcfyen Men unb ©terben; 

(53 fperren bie 3ftiefen ben etnfamen $3eg 

Unb broken bir emig 23erberben, 

Unb null ft bu bie fcfylafenbe Sotr-in* ntcfct tuetfen, 

©o tocmble ftitt burdj bie ©traf e ber ©djrecfen, 

(50 fdjtr-ebt erne 23rit(fe, $odj itber ben 0tanb 

£)er furdjtbaren £iefe gebogen, 

©ie rcarb nicfyt erBaitet son 9ftenf$entyanb, 

(£$ tyatte ftdj'S feiner sermogen; 

•Der ©trom braujt uttter Hjr fpat unb frittj, 

©peit enug fyinauf, unb jertrummert fie nie* 

£3 offnet ftdj fd^warg ein fdjauriges £$or, 
£)u gtaubft bid) im 9tei$e ber ©fatten, 
Da tfyut fid) ein tacfyenb (Manbe tyemr, 
2Qq ber £erbft unb ber grilling jtdj gatten; 
2lu3 be3 SebenS Sftiifyen unb eir-iger £}ual 
S^od^t 1 id) flie^en in biefeS gtitcffelige XfyaL 

SSier ©trome braufen tyinab in bag $elb, 
3^t Quell, ber ift etr-ig tterborgen; 
©ie flie^en na$ alien ttier ©traf en ber SBelt, 
9la§ 2lbenb, ftorb, Pittag unb Sftorgen, 
Unb foie bie Gutter fie raufdjenb geboren, 
gort fliefyn fie uxCd bleiben fid) enug »erloren«. 

3ft>ei 3i«!en ragen ins 531aue ber Suft, 

£od) iiber ber 9Jiertfd)en ®efd)ledjter, 

£)rauf tauten, umfd)leiert mit goibenem £)uft, 



* fiowin, an eintgen £>rtert ber @d)wetj ber wiribm Slusbrucf fit* 
Sawine. 



116 



THE LAY OE THE MOUNTAIN. 

By the edge of the chasm is a slippery Track, 

The torrent beneath, and the mist hanging o'er thee : 

The cliffs of the mountain, huge, rugged, and black, 
Are frowning like Giants before thee ; 

And, wouldst thou not waken the sleeping Lawine,* 

Walk silent and soft through the deadly ravine. 

That Bridge with its dizzying, perilous span 
Aloft o'er the gulf and its flood suspended, 

Think'st thou it was built by the art of man, 
By his hand that grim old arch was bended ? 

Ear down in the jaws of the gloomy abyss 

The water is boiling and hissing — forever will hiss. 

That Gate through the rocks is as darksome and drear, 
As if to the region of Shadows it carried : 

Yet enter ! A sweet laughing landscape is here, 
Where the Spring with the Autumn is married. 

Erom the world with its sorrows and warfare and wail, 

O could I but hide in this bright little vale ! 

Eour Rivers rush down from on high, 

Their spring will be hidden forever ; 
Their course is to all the four points of the sky, 

To each point of the sky is a river ; 
And fast as they start from their old Mother's feet, 
They dash forth, and no more will they meet. 

Two Pinnacles rise to the depths of the Blue ; 

Aloft on their white summits glancing, 
Bedecked in their garments of golden dew, 



* See note h. 



117 



Die SSotfert, tie fjimmlifdjen Softer, 
©ie fyalten bort oben ten einfamen Stettin, 
Da ftellt ftdj fern 3 e "g e / W» irtifc^er, eitu 

@3 (Ifct bie ^ontgin §odj nnb Ear 

2lnf tnwergangltdjem £f)rone, 

Die Stirn nmfranjt fie ftdj ronnberfcar 

Sfttt biamantener ^rone; 

Dranf fcfytefjt bie (Sonne bie $fei(e son Stdjt, 

©ie oergolben )k nnr nnb ent-drmen fie nidjt. 



5>er ^fpenjager. 

SCtttjl bn nidjt baS Sammlein Bitten? 

Sammlein ift fo fromm unb fan ft, 
9cd^rt jtdj son be3 ©rafes 55(iitf)en, 

(Spielenb an be3 53acfye3 Sftanft. 
„9ftutter, Gutter, lay mid) gefjen, 
Sagen nad) bee Sergei f>o£e»!" 

SBitffi bn nidjt bie £eerbe loden 
Sftit be* pontes mnnterm $(ang? 

Stefclidj tout ber 8c^afl ber ©lecfen 
3n be6 2£aibe3 £aftgefang» 

„9ftntter, flutter, lag. mid) geljen, 

<S$roetfen anf ben nniben £ofyen!" 

SGBitCft bn ntt^t ber 23Ittmtein warten, 
Die im 23eete freunbltd) fte^n? 

Drangen labet bid) fein ©arten; 
SSilb iff 3 anf ben miiben £o()n! 

„?ag bie 53iitm(an, lag fte bitten! 

Gutter, Gutter, lag mid) $iel;enl" 



117 

The Clouds of the Sky are dancing ; 
There threading alone their lightsome maze, 
Uplifted apart from all mortals' gaze. 

And high on her ever-enduring throne 

The Queen of the mountain reposes ; 
Her head serene, and azure, and lone 

A diamond crown encloses ; 
The Sun with his darts shoots round it keen and hot, 
He gilds it always, he warms it not. 

Thomas Carlyle. 



THE ALPIXE HUKTEE. 

"Wilt thou not, thy lamblings heeding, 
(Soft and innocent are they !) 

Watch them on the herbage feeding, 
Or beside the brooklet play ?" 

"Mother, mother, let me go, 

O'er the mount to chase the roe." 

"Wilt thou not, thy herds assembling, 
Lure with lively horn along ? — 

Sweet their clear bells tinkle trembling, 
Sweet the echoing woods among !" 

"Mother, mother, let me go, 

O'er the wilds to chase the roe." 

" See the flowers that smile unto thee — 
Wilt thou tend them not, my child ? 

On the height no gardens woo thee ; 
Wild is Kature on the wild. ' ' 

" Leave the flowers in peace to blow ; 

Mother, mother, let me go I" 
22 



118 

Unb ber jvnafte gtng gu jagen, 
Unb e3 treibt unb reigt i^it fort, 

3fofifo3 fort mit Mtnbem SBagen 
2ln be3 23erge3 ftnfiem Drt; 

$or i§m Jjer mit SSinbecfdjnefte 

glief)t bie gftternbe ©a^elle, 

2luf ber gelfett natfte 9iippen 
^lettert fie mit leidjtem Scftttung, 

SDurd) ben 3tif gefoaltner ^lippen 
STragt ftc ber getoagre sprung; 

2I6er f)inter \l)x serrcogen 

golgt er mit bem Jcbesoogen. 

Se^o auf ben fdjrojfen Qivfitn 
ipangt fie, auf bem fiodjften ©rat, 

H>o bie fjelfen jafj serjtnfett, 
Unb »erfd)munben ijl ber $fab* 

Uttter fid) bie fteile £o£)e, 

Winter fid) be3 getnbea Sftatje, 

SD^it be3 Sammera fhtmmen 33ft <f en 
gleJjt fie 3U bem barren Wlann, 

glefct umfonft, bemt lo$$ufcrit(fen, 
£egt er fd)on ben Sogen an; 

WWfy auS ber getfenfpalte 

£ritt ber ©eifr, ber 33erge£alte* 

Unb mit feinen ©otterftanben 
©djiifct er ba3 gequalte £l)ter. 

„9ftuj3t bu Job unb jammer fenben," 
iRuft er „bis fyerauf $u mir? 

<Kaum fur 2lde fyat bie Srbe; 

2Ba3 oerfolgft bu meine £eerbe?" 



118 

Forth the hunter bounds unheeding, 

On his hardy footsteps press ; 
Hot and eager, blindly speeding 

To the mountain's last recess : 
Swift before him, as the wind, 
Panting, trembling, flies the hind. . 

Up the ribbed crag-tops driven, 
Up she clambers, steep on steep ; 

O'er the rocks asunder riven 
Springs her dizzy, daring leap : 

Still unwearied, with the bow 

Of death, behind her flies the foe. 

On the peak that rudely, drearly 
Jags the summit, bleak and hoar, 

"Where the rocks, descending sheerly, 
Leave to flight no path before ; 

There she halts at last, to find 

Chasms beneath — the foe behind ! 

To the hard man — dumb-lamenting, 
Turns her look of pleading woe ; 

Turns in vain — the Unrelenting 
Meets the look— and bends the bow. — 

Yawned the rock ; from his abode 

Forth the mountain Genius strode ; 

And, his godlike hand extending, 
From the hunter snatched the prey, 

u Wherefore, woe and slaughter sending, 
To my solitary sway ? — 

Should my herds before thee fall ?* 

There is room on earth for all !" 

Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. 



* See note i. 



119 

JHfijijramBe. 

dimmer, bag gtauBt mix, erfdjeinen bte ©otter, 

dimmer atteuu 

$aum ba# id) SBacdjuS, ben Sufttgen, Xja^c, 

^ommt aud) fd)on Slmor, ber lacfyelnbe .ftnaBe. 

$>i)o&u6, ber £errtid)e, ftnbet ftd) tin. 

@te naBen, [ie fommen, bie £immltfd)en aUt, 
$Rit ©iJttern er fit lit ftd) bte irbi[d)e £attc* " 

<Sagt, trie Be^irtf) 1 id), ber (SrbegeBome, 
£tmmlifd)en Sijor? 
(Sdenfet mix euer unfterBtide3 £eBen, 
©otter! $3a3 fann euc^ ber ©terBltdje geBen? 
JpeBet gu eurem Dfymp mid) emoor! 

£)ie greube, fte mofjnt nur in SupiterS (Saate; 

O fuller mit Sfteftar, o reidjt mir bie ©djalel 

Steidj' i$m bte (Sdjale! (Sdjenfe bent 2>idjter, 

JpeBe, nur ein! 

9te£' tfjm bie Slugen mit fjimmlifdjem £ljaue, 

£)a£j er ben ©tyr, ben £erfca§ten, nid)t fdjaue, 

(Siner ber Unfern ftd) bitnfe ^u fettt. 

©ie raufc&et, fte perlet, bie t)immlifd)e Quelle, 
2)er SBufert toirb rutyig, ba3 2luge toirb fcette. 



5ie flier 'gSeffaffer. 

SBofjt pertet im ©lafe ber purpurne SBeitt, 
SBoIjI glanjen bie 2htgen ber ©ajre; 

@» ^eigt ftd) ber ©anger, er tritt herein, 
3u bem ©uten Bringt er bag 93ej*e; 

SDenn o^ne bie £eier im t)immlifd)en ©aal 

3ft bie greube gemein aud) Beim sfteftarma^t* 



119 



DITHYRAMBIC. 

Never, believe me, appear the Divine ones, 

Never alone. 
Scarce have I Bacchus, the wakener of joy, 
But Love is there also, the laughing young boy ; 

Phoebus, the Lordly, consents to make one. 
They're coming, they're near us, the Deities all, 
With Gods is now filling the poor earthly hall. 

Say, how can I take, child of the earth here, 

Guests from on high ? 
Grant me, like you, ye Gods, deathless to live I 
What offering for you hath a mortal to give ? 

Up to Olympus, O, help me to fly ! 
Joy dwells only where Deities sup ; 
O, fill me the nectar, O, reach me the cup ! 

Keach him the cup ! Pour for the bard, 

Hebe, pour free ! 
Sprinkle his eyesight with heaven's bedewing, 
That the Styx, the detested, he may not be viewing, 

But one of our own may suppose him to be ! 
It gushes, it sparkles, the fount of the skies ! 
How peaceful the bosom, how radiant the eyes ! 

JV. L. FrotMngham. 



THE FOUR AGES OF THE WORLD. 

Bright beams in the goblet the purple wine ; 

In the eyes of the guests it glances : 
The minstrel steps' in, and with music divine 

The joys of the feast enhances. 
For without the lyre, in the Heavenly Hall, 
The nectar is flat, and the viands pall. 



, 120 

31jm gaBen btc ©otter bag retne ©emutfj, 
2Bo bie S3elt fldj, btc eiotge, fpiegett; 

<£x tyat atte^ gefetjn, toag auf Srben gefdjiej)t, 
Unb toad ung bie 3ufunft oerftegelt; 

dr faff in ber ©otter uralteftem fRatfy, 

Unb befjordjte ber £)inge getjeimfte <Saar, 

(5r breitet eg tufHg unb glan^enb aug, 

£>a3 gufammengefaltete Men; 
3um Sentpel fcfymittft er bag irbtfdfye £au$, 

3§nt $at eg bie 9ftufe gegeben; 
^etn T)afy ijl fo niebrig, leine £ittte fo ffein, 
(£r fii^rt einen £immet ooll ©otter §ineuu 

Unb tote ber erftnbenbe <&of)n beg gtuS 
2luf beg ©djtlbeg einfadjem Sftunbe 

Die (Srbe, bag 9fteer unb ben ©ternenfrete 
©ebtlbet mit gottltdjer $uube, 

©o britcft er ein SStfij beg unenblidfyen 2111 

3n beg Slugenbticfg fliidjttg oerraufefyenben <5fyatt< 

(Sr fommt aug bem finbtidjen 2Hter ber SBelt, 
2Bo bie toiler (tdj jugenblid) frenten; 

(Er tyat ftdj, ein frof)Iid)er SBanbrer, gefellt 
3n alien ©efefyledjtern unb -B^iten. 

SSter 9ftenfd)ena(ter fyat er gefefyn 

Unb logt jie am fimften ooritberge^n* 

(Srft regierte ©aturnug f$Ii$t unb gere^t, 

2) a mar eg ^eute toie morgen, 
£>a tebten bie £irten, ein ^armlog ©ef&tedjt, 

Unb brau^ten fur gar ntdjts gu forgen; 
(Sie Itebten unb tfyaten toeiter nt-^tg me§r, 
2)ie Srbe gab atteg fceitoidig ^cr» 



120 

His soul, Heaven-gifted, reflects mirror-bright 

The world that eternal abideth : 
He hath all things seen that have, come to light, 

And whatever Futurity hideth. 
In the council he sat where Time's birth was decreed, 
And his ears marked the growth of its secretest seed. 

He spreads, like a raiment gorgeous and gay, 

The Life that together lay folded ; 
He adorns for a temple the cottage of clay, 

Which the Muse for his dwelling had moulded : 
No roof is so lowly, no hovel so base, 
But he fills with a Heaven of Celestials the place. 

And as the inventive Son of Jove 

On the shield's orb plain and even 
The earth, the sea, and the starry cove 

Depicted with skill from Heaven, 
So a type he imprints of the infinite round 
On the fugitive moment's vanishing sound. 

He comes from the new world's infant age, 

When men like children sported, 
And, whilst on his frolic pilgrimage, 

With all races and times consorted : 
He has seen already four ages of men, 
And now he starts with the fifth again. 

First, Saturn was ruler — the honest and true — 
Then To-day was the same as To-morrow ; 

Then flourished the Shepherds —an innocent crew, 
Who neither knew labor nor sorrow. 

They loved— and in sooth they did nothing beside — 

For the Earth all their sustenance freely supplied. 



121 



2)rauf tarn bie 5IrBett, ber ^ampf Begantt 

9fttt Ungefyeuern unb £>racfyen, 
Unb bte Jpelben ftngen, bte iperrfdjer, art, 

Unb ben 9ftad)tigen fud)te t n bte (Sd)road)ett* 
Unb ber ©treit gog in beg ©famanberg ^elb; 
SDod) bie ©cfyonfyeit roar immer ber ©ott ber SBelt 

Slug bent ^atnpf ging enblidj ber ©teg §er*>or, 
Unb ber ^raft entblii^te bie 9JWbe, 

S)a fangen bie SSftufen im fyimmlifdjen (S^or, 
£)a er^nBen fid) ©ottergebilbe — 

SDag 2Hter ber gottlicfyen $fyantafte, 

(£g ift oerfd^rounben, eg ferret nie» 

£)ie (Sorter fanfen som JMmmelgtljrott, 

($g ftuqten bte tyerrlid^en ©aulen, 
Unb getoren rourbe ber 3ungfrau <Bo^n, 

£)ie ©ebredjen ber Srbe gn fatten; 
55er6annt roarb ber ©inne flitcfytige Sufr, 
Unb ber Siftenfdj griff benlenb in feine 23rufL 

Unb ber eitte, ber itppige Sfaij entroi$, 

£)er bte fro^e 3ugenbroelt jierte; 
•Der Wonfy nnb bie 9?onne gergeifelten ft$, 

Unb ber etferne fitter tuntterte. 
;Dod) roar bag Sekn audj fmfter unb roitb, 
©o Mtefc bod) bie Sie'be Iteblid) unb milb, 

Unb einen ^eiligen, feufd)en 2tttar 

23eroaf>rten fid) ftitte bie Sftufen; 
@g tebte, roag ebel unb ftttltd) roar, 

3n ber grauen sttcfyttgem Sufen; 
£)ie glamme beg Siebeg entBrannte neu 
5ln ber fdjonen 9ftinne unb Siebegtreu. 



121 

Next, came Toil and Care—the contest began 
With dragons and monstrous giants — 

The Heroes, they lorded it over man, 
And the Weak with the Strong made alliance. 

The red bolt on the shores of Scamander was hurled, 

— But Beauty was ever the God of the world. 

At length, from Strife came Victory's reign, 

And Strength with Softness blended ; 
Then warbled the Muses their heavenly strain, 

And godlike Forms ascended. 
But Fancy's age divine is o'er — 
It is vanished away ; it returns nevermore. 

The Gods descended from Heaven's throne — 

Their splendid columns were broken ; 
And then was born the Virgin's Son 

For our salvation's token. 
Light pleasures of sense were dispossessed, 
And man probed, thoughtful, his secret breast. 

And the wanton Graces were driven away ; 

In which the young world delighted ; 
Monk and Nun plied the scourge, and in iron array 

For the tourney the Knight was dighted ; 
But though Life thus gloomy and barbarous grew, 
Still Love stayed behind — the lovely and true. 

And the Muses their holy altar pure 

Maintained with silent endeavor ; 
The noble and good were left to endure 

In woman's chaste bosom forever : 
.The flame of song, it was kindled again 
In the Troubadour's lay, and the Minstrel's strain. 



122 

£)rum foil audj ein emtges, garter 93anb 
£)te grauen, bie ©anger umfled)ten, 

©te mtrlen unb toeften, £anb in £anb, 
£)en ©i'trtel beS ©$onen nnb Sftedjtetu 

©efana. unt) £tebe in fdjonem herein, 

©te erljalten bent Sefeen ben 3ugenbfcfyeuu 



^Mtfd)fie&. 

SSter ©(entente 
3nntg gefetlt, 
SMtben ba3 Men, 
Semen bie SQBelt 

3)refjt ber (Ettrone 
©aftigen ©tern ! 
iperB ift be3 Sefcen* 
3nnerfter $erm 

3e£t mit be3 Sutlers 
Sinbernbem ©aft 
3a^met bie fyeroe 
SSrennenbe $raft! 

©te^et be$ SBafferS 

©prubetnben ©d)tt>all! 
Staffer umfanget 
SluiiQ baa 2UL 

Sropfen be3 ®eifte3 
©iejjet fyinein! 
£eBen bem Men 
©tut er atleiru 



122 

Then may Bards and fair Dames in eternal band 

Be conjoined, of soft pleasing duty, 
Aye working and weaving, hand in hand, 

The girdle of Truth and Beauty. 
So Love and the Muse, in blest Harmony strung, 
Shall make life ever look bright and young. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



PUNCH SONG. 

Elements four, when 
Closely encurled, 
Build up our being, 
Fashion the world. 

Press ye the lemon's 
Juice-yielding star ; 
Hard is our being's 
Innermost core. 

Now with the sugar, 
Pleasant and sweet, 
Tame ye the power 
Fervent with heat. 

Pour ye the water's 
Freshening fall ; 
Water encircles 
Peaceful our ball. 

Drops of the spirit 
Pour ye thereon ; 
Life to the living 
Gives it alone. 



123 

<SfT eg soerbuftet, 

@d)opfet eg fc^nctl! 
Sflux wtnn er gtittjet, 
£aftet ber £)ueu\ 



SteBen ^rennbe, eg gaB fdbonre 3 e ^tcn f 
2Hg bte imfern — bag ift nidjt $n ftreiten! 
Unb eitt ebler 33olf fjat einft gelebt 
$onnte bie ©efd)id)te bason fd)tt>etgen, 
£anfenb ©teine miirben tebenb gengen, 
S)te man ang bem @d)oof{ ber Srbe graftt 

2)odj eg ift baf)ttt, eg ift setfd)tt>nnben, 

2)iefeg f)od)begnnftigte ©efdjlecfyt. 

$3ir, »ir leoen! Unfer ftnb bie <5tunben, 

Unb ber SeBenbe $at fftetyt. 

$rennbe, eg giBt glitdlid^ere 3onen, 
Site bag Sanb, toorin tr>ir leiblid) tuo^nett, 
28ie ber tr-eitgereifte SBanbrer fprtdjt. 
2H>er tyat 9latnr ung t>iel ent^ogen, 
2Bar bie ^urtft nng freunblid) bodj gettogen 
Unfer iperg ertr-armt an ift rem Sidjt 
2BW ber £orbeer fyter fid) ntdjt gerootjnett 
2£itb bie Sttprte nnferg SBinterg 9tano, 
©riinet bod), bie ©djlafe gn Befronen, 
Ung ber SfleBe mnntreg SanB* 

SBo^I son grofjerm SeBen mag eg ranfdjett, 
2Bo oier SGelten it)re ©djajje tanfcfyen, 
Sin ber £f>emfe, anf bem SJkrft ber 2Mt* 



123 

Quaff ere its fragrance, 
Fleeting, is o'er ; 
Sources that glow not 
Gladden no more. 

H. W. Dulcken. 



TO MY FRIENDS. 

Yes, my friends — in vain 'twere else pretended — 
Brighter days than ours have dawned and ended, 

And a noble race those days have seen. 
Ev'n did annals fail to speak their glory, 
Thousand stones bear witness to the story, 

That in earth's dark womb have treasured been. 
But, with all its splendors, all its powers, 

That high-favored race has taken flight — 
"We — we live— the present day is ours ; 

And the living holds the right. 

There are happier climes, my friends — excelling 
Far the humble land we're doomed to dwell in ; 

So, at least, our vaunting travelers say. 
But, though much dame Nature has denied us, 
Art — our friendly genius — still beside us, 

Warms our bosoms with his genial ray. 
Though the laurel here may droop repining, 

Though our winter's rage the myrtle dread, 
Yet the vine's green leaves, our brows entwining, 

Their enlivening texture spread. 

Dost thou court ambition's lofty pleasures ? 
Go where four wide worlds their countless treasures 
Have on Thames— the globe's emporium— rolled. 



124 

Sanfenb <2<$iffe lanben an nub get)en; 
Da ift je:oeg $o(Htct> ju fet^en, 
Unb eg krrfcfyt ber (Srbe ©ott, bag (MK 
Sl^er ntd)t im triiben <&fylamm ber £)a$e, 
Der »o:rt nutben ^egengiijfen ftfyttutlt, 
5luf be^ ftiften 23a$eg ebner ^ia$e 
©piegelt fidj bas ©onnentolfc* 

$rad)tiger f alg tt>ir in nnferm Sftorben, 
USo^nt ber Settler art ber (Sngelgpforten, 
Denn er ftifyt bag enng ein^ge fftoml 
3t)n umgibt ber Sd?onf)eit ©lanjgennmntel, 
Unb etn jroeiter ipimmel in ben £immef 
©tetgt ©and $eterg nmnberbarer Donn 

2lber Sftom in a Hem fetttem ©lan$e 

3ft ein ©rab nnr ber Sergangenfyeit; 

£e&en buftet nnr bie frtft^e spjlange, 

Die bie grime ©tnnbe ftreut 

©rofreg mag ffdj anbergmo begeben, 
yjLU bet nng in nnferm fleinen Men; 
9?eneg — fyat bie (Sonne nie gefefjn* 
©efyn tr>ir bod) bag @ro§e aller &t\ttn 
Shtf ben Srettern, bie bie SSelt bebenten, 
©tnn^ott ftitt an un$ soritbergefyn. 

2ltleg nuebert)o(t (id) nnr im Seben, 

(Snug jnng ift nnr bie ^antafte; 

SSag ftd) nie nnb nirgenbg §ai UQtbm, 

Dag allein seraltet nie! 



^unfdjfieb. 

JSm Morten $u ftrtgctt. 

SInf ber Serge freten ipoljen, 
3« ber Sttittaggfonne ©djeht, 



124 

Thousand barks are landing there or going ; 
There all precious things are seen o'erflowing, 

And there lords it earth's great idol— gold. 
Yet 'tis not the brooklet's turbid mud, 

By torrents swoln that fast descending stream, 
But the silent fountain's limpid flood 

That mirrors back the sunny beam. 

Prouder far than we of northern state, 
The beggar dwelling at the Angel-gate ; 

For there he views the One Eternal Rome : 
All earth's dazzling glories glimmer o'er him, 
And — a second heaven in heaven — before him 

Soars Saint Peter's awe-inspiring dome. 
Yet is Rome herself, with all her splendor, 

But a tomb where Time's dry bones are found ; 
Living shoot the blossoms, green and tender, 

Which our spring-time scatters round. 

Earth may elsewhere grander gifts be giving 
Than to us, in this our modest living ; 

Nothing new the sun can ever see. 
We behold all ages in their glory, 
On those boards which tell our planet's story, 

As they cheat the senses silently. 
Everything in life is but repeated ; 

Always youthful, fancy's flowers unfold : 
What has ne'er been found — is nowhere seated — 

That alone grows never old. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq.^ F.S.A, 



PUNCH SONG. 

(TO be sung in northern countries.) 
On the mountain's breezy summit, 
Where the southern sunbeams shine, 



125 

2ht be$ ttarmen ©trafjlen tfraftett 
Beugt Sftatur ben gotbnen 2Bem. 

Unb nod) niemanb Rett's erfnnbet, 
$3ie bie gro§e Gutter fd)ap; 

Unergriinblid) ift baS SBirfen, 
UnerforfdjUdj tft bie tf raft 

gunfelnb toie ein (5ot)n ber (Sonne, 
2Bie be$ SicfyteS geuerquett, 

©pringt er pertenb ans ber Sonne, 
spurpurn un'D fr^ftatlent^ett 

Unb erfrenet atte (Stnnen, 

Unb in jebe bange 23rnft 
©ie£t er ein Batfamifdj # often 

Unb be3 2eben3 nene £nft 

2lber matt anf nnfre 3onen 
gatft ber @onne forages Stdjt; 

Sftnr bie flatter !ann fie farben, 
2Iber §riicfyte reift jte nicfyt 

2)o$ ber 9torben and) toiU leben, 
Unb wad lebt, toiU ftdj erfrenn; 

£>arnnt fdjaffen ttnr erjtnbenb 
Dtyne SBeinftotf nn3 ben 3Bein» 

33Iei$ nnr ift'3, voad mir beretten 
2htf bent J)dnSiid)en 2lltar; 

2Ba$ 9tatnr lebenbig bilbet, 
©idnjenb ift'3 nnb etoig flar* 

5lber frenbig au$ ber ©djale 
(£d)6pfen ttnr bie triibe $lntfj; 

Stud) bie $unft ift £immel3gabe, 
S3orgt fie gletdj oon trb'fcfyer ©htttj. 



125 

Aided by their warming vigor, 
Nature yields the golden wine. 

How the wondrous mother formeth, 
None have ever read aright ; 

Hid forever is her working, 
And inscrutable her might. 

Sparkling as a son of Phoebus, 
As the fiery source of light, 

From the vat it bubbling springeth, 
Purple, and as crystal bright ; 

And rejoiceth all the senses, 
And in every sorrowing breast 

Poureth Hope's refreshing balsam, 
And on life bestows new zest. 

But their slanting rays all feebly 
On our zone the sunbeams shoot ; 

They can only tinge the foliage, 
But they ripen ne'er the fruit. 

Yet the North insists on living, 
And what lives, will merry be ; 

So, although the grape is wanting, 
"We invent wine cleverly. 

Pale the drink we now are offering 
On the household altar here ; 

But what living Nature maketh, 
Sparkling is and ever clear. 

Let us, from the brimming goblet, 
Drain the troubled flood with mirth ; 

Art is but a gift of Heaven, 

Borrowed from the glow of earth. 

23 



128 

Severn SBtrfen fretgegeBen 
3ft ber ^rafte gropes Sftcid^ 5 

Scenes Mtbenb an£ bem 9Ilten, 
©tetft fte fid) bem ©cfyo.pfer glet<§* 

©elbjl bag 23anb ber ©(entente 
£rennt ifyr IjerrfdjenbeS ©eBot f 

Unb fte afymt mit £erbegflammen 
9tafy bem fyofyen ©tmnengott 

gerntytn ju ten fePgen 3nfetn 
$i$tet fte ber ©tfciffe Sauf, 

Unb beg ©iibenS golbne gritdjte 
©cfyitttet fte im Sftorben auf» 

£>rnm ein ©innMIb wnb ein 3 e ^ e « 

(Set unS btefer generfaft, 
2Bas ber Sftenfdj ft c^ lann erlangen 

Wlit bem aSittcn unb ber &xa\t. 



^teitafie*. 

SBotjI auf, banter aben, auf« 9>ferb, <mfs $ferb, 
3nS gelb, in bie grettjeit gegogen! 

3m gelbe, ba ift ber SJknn nocfy wag verify, 
T)d n>irb bag £erg nod) getoogen, 

2)a tritt !ein 2fttberer fiir ifyn ein, 

2luf ftd) felkr fieljt er ba gang atfetn. 

2ht£ ber SBelt bie grettjett fcerfdjttmnben ift, 
ffllan ftetyt nur Jperren nut) .fined) te; 

Die galfdjtyett $errf$er, bie ipinterlijt 
SBei bem fetgen 9ttenf$ettgef(fyled)te* 

£)er bem Sob ins Slngcfidjt flatten lann, 

S)er ©olbat afletn, ift ber freie Gianni 



126 

Even strength's dominions boundless 

'Neath her rule obedient lie ; 
Erom the old the new she fashions 

With creative energy. 

She the elements' close union 

Severs with her sovereign nod ; 
"With the flame upon the altar, 

Emulates the great Sun-God. 

For the distant, happy islands 

Now the vessel sallies forth, 
And the southern fruits, all-golden, 

Pours upon the eager North. 

As a type, then, — as an image, 

Be to us this fiery juice, 
Of the wonders that frail mortals 

Can with steadfast will produce ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



TROOPER'S SONG. 

Up, up, brave comrades ! — to horse, to horse ! 

To the field where we freedom merit ! 
Where still is valued the brave man's force, — 

Where we weigh in the scale his spirit ! 
In war no man for his friend may stand, 
Where each one fights for his own right hand. 

All freedom hath fled from this world of guile, 
But tyrants and serfs remaining ; 

Now flourish lying and treason vile, 
O'er cowardly mortals reiguing. 

Who looks on death with unblenching brow, 

The soldier alone is the free man now I 



127 

£)eg SeBeng 2Iengfien, er nrirft jte meg, 
£at ntdjt ntefyr ^u furtf)ten, ju forgen; 

(Er reitet tern ©cfyitffal entgegen ltd, 
Strtfft'S t^eure ntc^t, trip eg bod) morgen, 

Unb trifft eg morgen, fo Xaffet ung tyut 

yiofy fcfyltirfen bte 9teige ber foftlidjen gdi. 

25on bent ipitmnel fattt ifjrn fein lujHg Soog, 
SBraucfyt'g ni$t ntit 9ftii^ 311 erftreBen 

£)er gro^ner, ber fud)t in ber Srbe ©d)oo{j, 
£)a meint er ben ©c^a^ %u erljeBen, 

(Er graBt nnb fcfyaufett fo lang er TeBr, 

Unb graBt, Big er enblid) fein ®raB ft$ graBt,. 

•Der S^eiter unb fein gefdjtotnbeg 5iof, 

©ie ftnb gefiird)tete ©afte* 
(Eg flimmern bie dampen im ipod^eitfdjtog, 

Ungelaben fomntt er jum f^efte, 
(Er toirBt nid)t Tange, er jeiget ni$t (3oVo, 
3nt (Sturm erringt er ben Sftmnefolb* 

SBarum toeint bte £)irn' unb ^ergramt ftdj fdjier' 

£a§ fafyren ba^in, lag fafyren! 
(Er f)at auf (Erben lein BleiBenb Quartier, 

$ann treue £ieB nicfyt Betoaljrett- 
T)a$ rafd)e @d)idfal, eg treiot iljn fort 
(Seine fRufyt lajjt er an leinent Dxt 

£>rum frtfdj, ^anteraben, ben happen gejauntt, 

£>ie 23ruft int ®efe$te getuftet! 
£)ie 3ugenb Braufer, bag SeBen fd^aumr, 

Srifd) auf, ty ber ©eifl nodj oerbttftet! 
Unb fe£et i^r nidjt bag £eBen eitt, 
9Ue tturb end) bag £eBen getoonnen fetn«. 



127 

The troubles of life he away hath thrown, 

Small need his for care or sorrow ; 
To meet his fate he rides boldly on, 

It may be. to-day or to-morrow. 
It may be to-morrow ; then let us to-day 
To the dregs quaff the goblet of time while we may ! 

Our merry lot from the sky falls down, 

We seek not to fill our measure ; 
The bondman grubs in the earth so brown, 

Still weening to lift a treasure ; 
He digs and shovels till life is past, 
And digs but a trench for his grave at last. 

The trooper bold, and his steed so gay, 

Are hated guests and dreaded ; 
Where the bride-lamps gleam he will find his way, 

Unasked, to the feast of the wedded ; 
Nor shows he money, nor long he'll plead ; 
With his sword, like a soldier, he'll gain his meed. 

Why weep'st thou, maiden ? — what grieves thee so ? 

Let him go, let him go, I pray thee ; 
He owns no home in this earth below, 

Nor love nor troth can he pay thee. 
His rapid fortune tears him away, 
And therefore his heart with none may stay. 

Then up, brave comrades, and saddle and ride, 
For the fight each bold heart beating ; 

Youth rolls through our veins life's foaming tide, — 
Up ! ere time quench the spirit fleeting : 

And whoso casts not his life in the scale, 

To win life's gladness shall surely fail. 

H. W. Dulcken. 



128 

'glaboroefliers ^obfenfieb. 

Bt% ta ft£t er auf ter 27Zatte, 

2lufre#t ft£t er ba, 
Sftit tern Slnftant, ben er $atte, 

SlU er 'a Si$t no$.fa$. 

S)o$, tso tft tie jtraft ter gaujte, 

2So tes 2lt§em3 £au$, 
£er nod) jitngft jum grofjen ©eijte 

33 lies ter |> fetfr 0tou$ ? 

2D o tie 2lu gen, falfenBetle, 
•Die te3 SFteitnt^ier^ Spttt 

3aMten auf tee ©rafe$ 2£elle, 
2luf tern £§au ter §lur? 

Xiefe (SdjenM, tie Beljenter 
glotjen bittdj ten Scfrnee, 

21U ter ^ptrfcfe, ter 3rcan3tgenter, 
TO beg Serges 3tefc ? 

SMefe Slrme, tie ten 23ogen 
(gpannten ftreng unt ftraff? 

Sefct, bad Sefren ift entflcgen! 
Scjt; fte l?angen fd^lajf ! 

SScftl iljm, er tft ftingegangen, 
2Bo !ein Sdbnee mel)r tft, 

2£o mit 9ft ais tie ^eiter prangen, 
£er sen felcer fpriejjtj 

2£o mit 556geln alle ^traudje, 
28o ter ©alt mit 2Mb, 

20c mit gifefcen alle Seidje 
Suftig fint gefiillt 



128 



NADOWESSIAN DEATH-LAMENT.* 

On the mat he's sitting there : 

See ! he sits upright, 
With the same look that he ware 

When he saw the light. 

But where now the hand's clinched weight ? 

Where the breath he drew, 
That to the Great Spirit late 

Forth the pipe-smoke blew ? 

Where the eyes, that, falcon-keen, 

Marked the rein-deer pass, 
By the dew upon the green, 

By the waving grass ? 

These the limbs, that, unconfined, 

Bounded through the snow, 
Like the stag, the twenty-tyned, 

Like the mountain roe ! 

These the arms, that, stout and tense, 

Did the bow-string twang ! 
See, the life is parted hence ! 

See, how loose they hang ! 

Well for him ! he's gone his ways 

Where are no more snows ; 
Where the fields are decked with maize, 

That unplanted grows ; — 

Where with beasts of chase each wood, 

Where with birds each tree, 
Where with fish is every flood 

Stocked full pleasantly. 

* See Note,/. 



129 

Sfttt ben ©eiftern foetet er brdfon, 

£iej? mtg $ier attein, 
£)afj mir feine £$atett toBen 

Unb if) n fdjarren em* 

SBrtttgct $er bie le£ten ©aBett, 
(gtimmt tic Sobtenflag 1 ! 

Silled fei mtt tfjm fcegraden, 
2Bag i$n frenen mag* 

£egt i§m nnrerg £anpt bte 33etle, 

Die er rapfer fdjtoang, 
2Intf> beg 25aren ferre ^eule, 

£enn ber 2£eg ijt fang; 

2Indj ba^ SWeflfer, fdbarf gefcfyliffeit, 

£)ag $om geinbegfdpf 
Sftafd) mit brei gefdjidten ©riffen 

©djalte £aut nnb ©djopf; 

garBett and), ben 2eiB ^u malen, 
(grecft ifym in bie ipanb, 

2)a$ er rotfylidj moge ftrafjlen 
3n ber ©eelen Sanb* 



pas §icgesfe|I. 

$riamg gefte tr»ar gefnttfen, 
SLroja lag in ©t^utt nnb ©tanB, 
Unb bie ©ried)en, ftegestrunfeit, 
Sfotdj Maben mit bem Sftaub, 
<5afen anf ben fyot)en ©djiffen, 
£angg beg ipellegpontog ©tranb, 
2tuf ber frozen ga^rt Begriffen 
Vlafy bem fdjonen ©riecfyenlanb* 

©hitler* fomntrt. SEerfe. L 9 



129 

He above with spirits feeds ; — 

We, alone and dim, 
Left to celebrate his deeds, 

And to bury him. 

Bring the last sad offerings hither I 
. Qhant the death lament ! 
All inter with him together, 
That can him content. 

'Neath his head the hatchet hide, 

That he swung so strong ; 
And the bear's ham set beside, — 

For the way is long ; — 

Then the knife, — sharp let it be, — 

That from foeman's crown, 
Quick, with dexterous cuts but three, 

Skin and tuft brought down ; — 

Paints, to smear his frame about, 

Set within his hand, 
That he redly may shine out 

In the spirits' land. 

JV. L. FrotMngham. 



THE FEAST OF VICTOBY. 

Priam's bulwark walls were sunken — 

Troy in dust and ashes lay — 
And the Greeks, with victory drunken, 

Eichly laden with their prey, 
On their towering navies seated, 

Lined the Hellespontic strand, 
And a happy welcome greeted 

To their beauteous Fatherland. 



130 

(Sttmmet an bie frozen Steber! 
2)enn bem aarerlidjen £erb 
©tub bie ©cfyiffe ^ngefetyrt, 
Unb jur -Jpeimatl) gefyt eg rcieber* 

ttnb in langen Steitjen, flagenb, 
<5a§ ber Srojerinnen ©cfyaar, 
©cfymer^oll an bie 25riifte fcfytagenb, 
Sfeidj, nut anfgelogtem £>aar* 
3n bag wilDe f5cfl ber grenben 
Sfttfdjten fte ben 28ef)gefang, 
SBeinenb nm bag eigne Seiben 
3n beg ifteicfyeg Untergang. 

£e6e toofyt, geltefcter 23oben! 

SSon ber fitfjen ipetmatfy fern 

§olgen toir bem fremben £errn. 

%$ ttrie gliicflid) finb bie Xobtenl 

Unb ben fjofjen ©ottern jiinbet 
,ftald)ag jefct bag Dpfer an\ 
%>aUa$, bie bie (Stabte griinbet 
Unb jertriimmert, ruft er an, 
Unb Step tun, ber urn bie Sanber 
(Seinen SBogengiirtel fdjttngt, 
Unb ben 3 eu ^, ben ©cfyredenfenber, 
£)er bie 2legig granfenb fdjwtngt. 
Slnggeftritten, anggemngen 
3ft ber tange, fd)ir»ere ©trett, 
Stuggefiitit ber $retg ber 3eir, 
Unb bie grof e ©tabt fcejmungen, 

Sltreng' <5o§n, ber gitrft ber ©djaaren, 
Ueberfafy ber Poller gafyl, 
2)ie mit ifym gejogen ttaren 
(£tnft in beg ©famanberg tfytiU 



130 

" Sing we then in joyful measures ! 
To our hearths — the hearths of Greece- 
Sail we back in glorious peace. 

Now for home and peaceful pleasures I" 

And in lengthened files lamenting 
Sate the dames of Ilion there, 

In deep groans their misery venting, 
Pale, with loose disheveled hair. 

Mixed with riot's wild excesses 
Rose their choral strains of woe, 

Mourning for their own distresses 
In their Country's overthrow. 

"Fare thee well, thou soil so cherished I 
Now, by stranger victors led, 
Follow we their lordly tread — 

Ah ! how happy they that perished !" 

To the High Immortals' praises 

Calchas bids his altars smoke : 
Pallas first, who cities raises 

And subverts, his prayers invoke ; 
Neptune, who his girding Ocean 

Round imprisoned Earth has curled ; 
Jove, who scatters wild commotion 

From his JEgis o'er the world. 
Fought the fight — the struggle ended — 

Of those years of blood and crime ; 

Filled the circling orb of Time ; 
Mighty Ilion low extended ! 

Atreus' son, the host's commander, 
Numbered o'er the tribes he led 

Erst to battle, where Scamander 
Rolls along his gulfy bed. 



131 

Unb beg Summers ftnjtre SSotfe 
3og jtdj urn beg .ftonigg 33tt<f 5 
95 on bem Ijergefitfyrten 3SoIle 
©racfyt 1 er SSen'gc nur jurud* 
£)rnm ertjebe frotye Sieber, 
SKkr bie £etmatfj toieber fteijt, 
2Bem nodj frifdj bag £eben btit^t! 
2)enn ntcfyt aHe fef^ren toieber* 

5ltte tttdbt, bie toteber fdjren, 

5D?6gen fid) beg ipeim^ugg frenn, 

5fn ben fwuglidjen TOaren 

$ann ber 9ttorb bereitet fetrt. 

9ttan$er ftel bnr$ grennbegtitcfe, 

£)en bie blnf ge @&(adjt oerfefytt! 

©pradj'g Ufyfj mit SSarnnnggblitfe, 

Son 2lt§eneng ®eift befeelt 
©titiflicb, toent ber ©atttn Xrene 
SRtin nnb feufdj bag £ang betoatjrt! 
£)enn bag 2Beio ift father 2lrr, 
Unb bie 2lrge tiebt bag 9?ene, 

Unb beg frtfdj erlam&ften SBeibeg 

grent ft<§ ber SUrtb, nnb flridt 

Urn ben SFlctg beg fcbonen Seibeg 

(Seine 9lrme bocfybeglitrft 

SBofeg SBerf ntn§ nnterge^en, 

£Ra(^e folgt ber ^eoeltfjat; 

SDenn geredjt in $immtUW6fyxt 

2Baltet beg ^roniben 9tat^ 
336fc3 ntnf mit 33ofem enben; 
2ln bem freoelnben (Defdjledjt 
SRa^et 3eng bag ®aftegred)t, 
SBagenb mit geredjten &anben* 



131 

Then the clouds of grief dark clustered 
O'er the monarch's altered brow — 

Of the ranks he lately mustered 
Few were home returning now. 

Let your joyful hymns be chanted, 
Ye who live for blessed Peace — 
Ye who hail your native Greece — 

Though return to all not granted 1 



Not by all, in peace returning, 

May the joys of home be shared ; 
At your household altars burning, 

Murder hath the torch prepared. 
Perish by domestic treason 

Many spared the battle's choice — 
Thus proclaimed the power of reason 

Through Ulysses' warning voice. 
Happy he, for whom unchanging 

Truth rests ever pure enshrined. 

False, alas ! is woman-kind, 
And the false ones ever ranging. 

Menel'aus blest embraces 
The reconquered prize of fight, 

And around her captive graces 
Wreaths his arms in proud delight. 

Short the space to evil given — 
Vengeance tracks the deed of crime ; 

Saturn's son aloft in Heaven 

Holds his judgment seat sublime. 

" 111 for ill " — the sentence spoken — 
"Evil for the evil deed!" 
Vengeance sure hath Jove decreed 

For the laws of guest-right broken. 



132 

SBo^t bem ©litdflidjert mag's gtemett, 

Sfhtft Dileua 1 tapfrer <Sofyn, 

Die Stegierenben 3U riUjmen 

3faf bem fyofyen £immelsttjron! 

Dfrte SBafct mfytilt bte ©aBen, 

D^ne Sititgfett bas ©littf ; 

£)enn $atroftu3 liegt BegraBen, 

Unb SL^erftte^ fommt gurittf! 
2Bci( ba3 ©Utcf au$ fetnen Sonnett 
£)ie ®efd)icfe Btinb ijerftreut, 
greue ftd) unb jaud^e §eut, 
2Ber bag £eBen£loo£ gemonnenl 

3a ber $rieg tterf^lingt bic 33eften ! 
(£nng n>erbe bein gebacfyt, 
©ruber, Bet ber ©rtecfyen $eften, 
£)er ein Xfymm mar in ber ©cfyladjt* 
2)a ber ©riecfyen ©djiffe Brannten, 
28ar in beinem $rm bag Jpeil; 
£)odj bem ©cfylauen, 23ie(gett>anbten 
SBarb ber fdjone $rei$ 3n SL^cit* 

grtebe beinen tyetPgen Soften! 

9Mdjt ber geinb §at bid) entrafft, 

5Xia)c ftel burd) %\av tf raft. 

2ldj, ber 3orn serberBt bte 53eften! 

£)em Sr^euger \fy% bent grof en, 
iHeft ^eoptolem beg SBeing; 
Unter alien trb'fdjen Soofen, 
Jpofyer $ater, preif id) being. 
SSon beg SeBeng ©litem alien 
3ft ber #Uu)m bag pd)fte bod); 
SSknn ber 2eiB in (StauB jerfatfen, 
£eBt ber gro£e ^ame nccfy. 



132 

"Well the Happy 'tis befitting," 

Cried O'ileus' valiant son, 
" To extol the immortals, sitting 

On their high celestial throne. 
Fortune, blind of choice, disposes 

Each to each the fatal urns, 
Since Patroclus dead reposes, 

And Thersites home returns. 
But if she, the dimly sighted, 

Eecks not where the prize shall fall, 

Let him laugh and shout withal, 
Who on life's best lot hath lighted. 

; Yes — still War the best devours, 

Ever shall thy fame resound, 
Brother ! in our festal bowers, 

Who a tower in fight wast found. 
When the Grecian fleet was burning, 

In thine arm our safety lay, 
Though deep craft, with practiced turning 

Bore the radiant prize away. 
Peace be to thine ashes cherished ! 

'Twas not thine to die in fight— 

Ajax fell by Ajax' might — 
Ah ! through rage the best have perished. "- 

Pouring to his mighty father, 

Neoptolemus the wine — 
" Of all earthly lots. I'd rather, 

Godlike parent ! thine were mine. 
Of all blessings life can number 

Highest far is deathless Fame — 
When in dust our bodies slumber, 

Still survives the heroic name. 



133 

Sapfrer, beines 9tul)me3 ©dimmer 
SBirb unfterblid) fetn im Sieb ; 
£)enn bctS irb'fd)e SeBen flteJjt, 
Unb bie £obten bauern immer* 

2$enn be$ SiebeS ©timmen fcfytoetgen, 
S5on bem ii6erttnnbnen ^antt, 
©o fottl tdj fiir ipeftorn jeugen, 
£u6 ber ©otjtt be3 XtybeuS an, — 
£>er fiir feme ipausaltare 
^ampfenb, em 33ef$irmer, ftet — 
^ront bett ©teger grojjre (Sfjre, 
(gftret tljn bag ftf)onre 3tel! 
2)er fiir feme JpauSalt&re 
^cimpfenb fan!, etrt ©cfyirm unb #orr, 
2md) in geinbeS 9ftunbe fort 
Sefct tfjm feineg Stamens ©§re. 

5^eftor jejjt, ber altc 3 e $ er f 

2)er bret Sftenfdjenalter fatj, 

Steidjt ben lauoumfrdnjten 23e$er 

S)er betfyrdnten £efuba: 

Strinf tfm au3, ben £ranf ber Sabe, 

Unb oergifj ben grofen ©djmerjl 

2Bunber»oU ift 23ac$u3 ®abe, 

23alfam fiirs jerrtffne £er$, 

STrinF i^tt au$, ben £ranf ber £aBe, 
Unb ttergtf; ben grofjen ©djmerjl 
Sklfam fiirS gerriffne iper^, 
SBnnberooE ift S3acdm6 ®abe* 

2)enn auc^ 9Uobe, bem fd)tr>eren 
3orn ber £tmmlifd)en etn Qid, 
^oftete bie grucfyt ber 2Iefyren, 
Unb begmang baz ©cfymerggefii^ 



133 

Thus great hero ! shall thy glory 

Be immortal in our lays ; 

And, though earthly life decays, 
Ever live the dead in story." 

"Is there none the song that raises 

For the foe who bravely died ? 
I'll then utter Hector's praises," — 

Tydeus' generous offspring cried — 
"Who his country's rights defended, 

For her altars doomed to fall. 
Be the Victor's crown more splendid— 

His, the Patriot's nobler call ! 
Who, his household Gods defending, 

Falls in fight, a shield and stay, 

Even in the foeman's lay, 
His renown shall live, unending." 

Nestor now — that brave old speaker 
Thrice the age of man had seen — 

Tends the ivy-crowned beaker 
To the tearful Phrygian queen : 

"Drink thereout the drink of gladness, 
And forget thy bitter smart ! 

Wondrous sweet the wine-god's madness- 
Balsam for the tortured heart. 

Drink thereout the drink of gladness, 
And forget thy bitter smart ! 
Balsam for the tortured heart — 

Wondrous sweet the wine-god's madness. 

"Niobe — the heavy anger 
Of the Gods, who sorest rued, 

Let the comforter harangue her, 
And her bosom's pangs subdued. 

24 



134 

jDcntt fo Tang t>ie SebenSqnetfe 
©djaumet an ber Si^pen SRanb, 
3ft ber ©cfymerj in Series S3eUc 
SLief oerfenft nnb feftgebannt! 
£)enn fo tang bie SeknSquetfe 
2ln ber Stppen SRanbe fdjanmt, 
3ft ber 3ammer toeggetraumt, 
gortgefpitlt in Series SMe, 

Unb son ityrem <$ott ergriffen, 
£nb ffdj jejjt bie ©etyerin, 
SBtttfte oon ben t)o|en (Stiffen 
sftadj bent diaufy ber £eimat§ $itu 
9iau&) tft atteS irb'fc^e 2Befen; 
2Bie be3 £)ampfe3 ©ante »e§t, 
©c^wtnben alle (£rbengro§en; 
9htr bie ©otter oleiben flat. 
Um ba$ SRoj? be$ 3toter3 fcfyioeben, 
Urn ba$ ©cfyiff bie ©orgen t)er; 
Sftorgen fonnen ttnr'S nid)t me^r, 
•Darum Iaf?t uns tyettte leoen! 



<&fage ber geres. 

3fl ber f)olbe Seng erfcfyienen? 
Jpat bie (Srbe ftdj oerjiingt? 
S)ie befonnten Jpiiget gritnen, 
Unb be$ Sifel 9Unbe fyringt 
2ht3 ber ©trome blanent ©pieget 
%a&)t ber nnbetoolfte 3^*3/ 
TOber ft>et)en 3ept)9r3 3*ugef, 
Slugen tre/bt ba£ junge SfteU, 



134 

Then, while life's full stream is drunken, 

Raised the mourner's lips to lave, 
Be all grief fast banned, and sunken 

Deep in the Lethsean wave ! 
Thus, while mourners comfort borrow 

From Life's full o'erflowing stream, 

Lethe's Waters, like a dream, 
Shall dissolve the plaints of sorrow." 

O'er the ships Cassandra bending 

On her Country's ashes gazed, 
Watched the pillared smoke ascending, 

And her voice prophetic raised. 
" Like yon smoke's ascending column, 

Earthly grandeur's eddying glide : 
Such the rolls of Life's dark volume. 

— Nothing but the G-ods abide. 
With the horseman rideth sorrow — 

O'er the steersman tempest lowers. 

Live to-day ! the day is ours — 
None of us may know To-morrow." 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A., 
and Lord Francis Egerton. 



LAMENT OF CERES. 

Has the Spring come, sweetly beaming ? 

Earth put on her youth again ? 
Sunny, grassy hills are gleaming, 

Rivers burst their icy chain. 
Mirrored on the streamlet's breast, 

Smile the blue, unclouded skies ; 
By the balmiest gales caressed, 

Each young twig hath buds, like eyes. 



135 

3tt bem £ain ertoadjen Sieber, 
Unb Me Dreabe fpridjt: 
£)eine 23fumen te^ren toteber, 
£)eine Softer ferret ntd)t 

2tdj t»te tang i$% baf i<$ toatle 
©udjenb burd) ber (Srbe ghtrl 
Zitan, beine ©traljlett atfe 
©anbt 1 itf) nadj ber ttjeuren ©pur; 
Reiner $at mtr nod) oerfitnbet 
SSon bem Iteoen Stngeftdjt, 
Unb ber £ag, ber alleS jtnbet, 
S)ie SSertorne fanb er ntcfyt. 
£aft bu, 3 e «^/ fa mir entriffen? 
£at, oon t^rem £R:etg geritfyrt, 
gu beg DrfuS fdjtoargen gtujfett 
$Iuto fte f)tnaogefitf)rt? 

SSer toirb nadj bem bitftern (Stranbe 
SfteineS ©ranted S3ote fetn? 
(£»tg (loft ber $a^n oom Sanbe, 
£)odj nur ©fatten ntmtnt er ettu 
3ebem fePgen Slug 1 oerfdjtofjen 
SStetfct ba$ nadjttt<$e ©efUb, 
Unb fo tang ber ©tyr geftojfen, 
£mg er tein teBenbig 23tlb* 
9?teber fit^ren taufenb ©tetgc, 
Reiner fttfyrt %um Jag ^nrtid; 
Sfyre Bremen ortngt fein 3 e «0C 
33or ber bangen Gutter Slid, 

Gutter, bit au$ ^prrfyas ©tamme, 
©teroltd^e, geooren fino, 
Ditrfen burd) bed ®rabe3 ^tamme 
gotgen bem gelteoten Stiiti j 



135 

Hear the wakened wood-birds sing ! 

Hark ! a wood-nymph calls to me : 
"Lo ! thy flowers come back with Spring, 

But thy daughter — where is she ?" 

Would this weary life were spent ! 

Would this fruitless search were o'er ! 
Titan, all thy beams I've sent 

Her far wanderings to explore. 
Not one beam hath chanced to fall 

On that dear and blessed face ; 
And the Day, that findeth all, 

Of my lost one finds no trace. 
Thunderer ! hast thou stolen my child, 

Tempted by her youthful charms ? 
Or to Orcus' gloomy wild 

Hath she sunk in Pluto's arms ? 

Who will seek that gloomy strand 

On my errand of despair ? 
Charon's boat puts forth from land, — 

None but shadows can cross there I 
Happy eyes may not behold 

What is hid in that vast grave ; 
Since the sullen Styx hath rolled, 

Hath no mortal crossed his wave. 
Thousand paths lead down, but none 

Upward to the light appears ; 
To the mother, sad and lone, 

Come no tidings of her tears. 

Mothers, that from Pyrrha came 
Mortal, have a fate more mild ; 

They may through the grave's deep flame 
Follow the beloved child ; 



136 

9htr teas SotriS £anS ftetrcfjnet, 
Sfta^et nid>t tent tnnfetn 3trant, 
9?ur tie Seltgen eer(d>enet, 
sparjen, eure ftrenge £ant. 
©tiirjt mic& in tie SRadjt ter 9la#te 
3hi€ bed £immels gottnem Baail 
gfcret nid>t ter ©ottin Sftedjte, 
2ldj, fte fmt ter Gutter Quail 

20 o fte mit tent fhtftern ©atten 
greufcloS tfcronet, ftieg' id) f)in, 
£rate mit ten leifen <£&atttn 
£etfe 9 or tie £errfc6eruu 
STcS, ifjr Singe fewest ton 3<%en, 
Sudjt umfonft tae gcltne £idjr, 
3rret nacfr entfernten Sppren, 
88fof tie Gutter fatlt e* ntdjt, 
23i6 tie grente fte enttedet, 
53i« ftcfc ©fitfl mit 23rnft ijereint, 
Unt jmn SEftirgefitM ertrecJei, 
(gel&ft ter ran^e Crfns tretnt. 

Sitter SDunfdj! serlorne Stlagmt 
£Hufeig in tern gleicfcen ©leis 
dtoUk tes £ages jttfjrer 2Sagen, 
(Sting ftef)t ter 3d>lnf tee 3 e u3, 
£3eg yen jenen ftinfternijjen 
SBantf er fein Begtitdre* £anpt; 
(Einmal in tie 9lad)t gerijfen, 
f&kibt fte eirig mtr gerauBt, 
$8i5 tee tuttfeln Stroma SSefle 
23on 2htrerene garden gln()t, 
3rie mitten turcb tie ipofle 
3§ren fdjonen 23ogen jie^t* 



136 

Only they, who dwell with Jove, 

Are forbid that gloomy strand ; 
Only they, who dwell above, 

Feel not, Fates, your iron hand. 
Plunge me in the night of nights 

From these mansions of the Blest ! 
Honor not the Goddess' rights, 

Torments to the mother's breast. 

By the dusky monarch's side, 

Joyless throned, to her I'd go ; 
"With the shadowy throng I'd glide 

Near the Queen of all below. 
Ah ! her eyes, bedimmed with tears, 

Seek in vain the golden light, 
Wander off to other spheres, — 

But no mother greets her sight ! 
Ah ! she may not see her more, 

On her breast she may not sleep, 
Till, with tears ne'er shed before, 

E'en the rugged Orcus weep ! 

Idle wish ! tears thrown away ! 
' Calmly on its steady course 
Eolls the chariot of day ; 

Jove's resolve must still have force. 
Far away from that dark shore 

He hath turned his blessed head ; 
Once borne thither, nevermore 

Can she leave the shadowy dead, 
Till those bitter waves, subsiding, 

With Aurora's colors glow, 
Till, through Hell's dominion gliding, 

Iris draws her shining bow. 



137 

3(1 nttr ni$tg son t§r geoTteBen? 
9ttcfyt ein fitjj ertnnernb $fanb, 
£)a$ bte gernen fldj nod) liebm, 
$eine ©pur ber tfyeuren £anb? 
^nitpfet ftdj fern Siebegfrtoten 
3totfd)en $inb unb Gutter an? 
3toifd)en Sebenben unb £obten 
3ft !cin Sunbmf aufget^an? 
Stein, ntdjt gan^ ift ftc entflofjen! 
*ftetn, toir [tub ni$t gan$ getrennt! 
Jpaben ung bte eioig Jpo^ett 
(Sine (ESpradje beefy oergonnt! 

SBenn beg ^riiljlingg ^inber fteroen, 
SBenn oon Forbes faltem ipaucfy 
S3(att unb 23htnte fid) entfarben, 
Xraurtg ftefyt ber nadte ©traudj, 
sftefym' id) mtr bag l)ed)fte Seben 
Slug 23erhtntnug , retdjem £orn, 
Dpfernb eg bent ©tyr gu geben, 
Sftir beg ©ameng golbneg Stoxtu 
SLrauernb fenf idj's in bte (£rbe, 
£eg' eg an beg jttnbeg ^erj, 
!Da§ eg eine ©pradje toerbe 
Reiner £iebe, nteinem Sd)mer^ 

^tifyrt ber gletcfye Zan$ ber £oren 
greubig nun ben Seng jurucf, 
SGirb ba^ £obte neu geboren 
$on ber (Sonne Mengblid. 
$etme, bie bent 2Iuge ftarben 
3n ber Srbe faftcm ©cfyoog, 
3n bag beitre fRtify ber garben 
Sftingen fte jtdj freubig log* 



137 

Left she nothing for her mother ? 

Not one sweet memorial pledge, 
That the absent love each other ? 

Nought my sorrow to assuage ? t 
Twines there no undying bond 

Bound the living and the dead ? 
From the mother, faithful, fond, 

Has the daughter wholly fled ? 
No ! I am not all bereft ! 

No ! there is one bond of union ; 
For one language still is left, 

In which we may hold communion. 

When the Spring's dear children fall, 

When the chilly North- wind blows, 
And the leaves are shaken all 

From the naked, cheerless boughs, 
Then I chose an offering 

From Vertumnus' 'plenteous horn ; 
Then to gloomy Styx I fling 

Choicest grains of golden corn ; 
Sadly sink them in the earth, 

Lay them to my daughter's heart ; 
Soon a language springs to birth, 

Which can all I feel impart. 

When returning Spring comes, led 

By the Hours in circling dance, 
Then shall wake the slumbering dead 

'Neath the sun's all-quickening glance I 
Germs, that seemed to sink and die 

In the cold, dark lap of earth, 
Soon shall hail the generous sky, 

Kealm where colors all come forth. 



138 

SBenn ber <Stamm sum £tmmet eitet, 
(Sucfyt bie SBurgel fcfyeu bie 9lcu$t 
©leidj in il)re $ftege toilet 
©ic^ ber ©t9jr, be3 2Ietl)erg Sftadjt 

£alb Berit^ren fte ber £obten, 
Jpalfe ber Menben ©ebiet; 
%&), fte ftnb mir tfjeure 23oten, 
©life ©ttmmen Oom Goctyt! 
£alt cr gfetdj fte feloft t>erfc^toffen 
3n bent fdjauersotlen @d)lunb, 
2tu3 beg gritljltttgs jungen ©proffett 
Sftebet mir ber f)olbe 9ftunb, 
S)af attd) fern ijom gotbnen £age, 
SH3o bie ©fatten traurig jtrfjit, 
Sieoenb nod) ber 35ufen fdjfage, 
3artlic^ no$ bie iper^en glitfyn* 

D fo lafjt eudj frotj begritfjen, 
$inber ber serjitngten 2lu! 
(£uer $eldj foil itoerfliefjen 
SSon beg *ftefrar$ reinftem Zfyau. 
Zau^m null td) end) in ©tra^ten, 
Wlit ber 3riS fd&onjfcm Sicfct 
SBttt tdj eure flatter maten, 
©leidj 2Iuroren6 Slngeftcbt 
3n beg Sensed fyetterm ®ian^ 
£efe jebe jarte Skuft, 
Sn beg £erofte£ ttelfem ^ranje 
Sfteinen ©camera nnb meine 2u(U 



138 

They shall bloom in upper air, 
While the root steals down to night, 

Nourished by the tender care 

Both of Styx, and Heaven's light. 

Half in Pluto's kingdom drear, 

Half in upper day they grow, 
Messengers to me most dear, 

Sweetest tones from her below ; 
Though he holds her in his power, 

Close confined in that dark dwelling, 
Yet in every young Spring flower 

I can hear her sweet lips telling, 
That, though far from golden day, 

Where the mournful shadows go — 
Yet the heart beats true alway 

With its earliest, warmest glow. 

Children of the Spring, just blowing, 

Heartily I welcome you ! 
May your cups be overflowing 

With the nectar's purest dew ! 
I will bathe you in the sun ; 

With the rainbow's fairest light 
Paint your leaflets, every one, 

Like the face of morning bright. 
In the Spring's inspiring glance, 

Then shall every tender breast — 
Or when leaves in Autumn dance — 

Bead my griefs— my joys— expressed. 

John 8. Dwight. 



139 

Ja* ^fenfifdje Jfeff. 

5Btnbet jum Grange bie golbenen Ste^ren, 
glecfytet au$ Mane Spanen Kjincinl 
greube foil JebeS 2Iuge oerflareu, 
3>tttt bie tonight gie^et ein, 
2)ie Se^aljmerin milber ©itten, 
£)ie ben 9ftenf$en gum 9ftenfd)en gefettt, 
Uttb in frteblidje, fefte £utten 
SBanbelte bag bemeglicfye >$dL 

&fytu in be3 ©eMrgeS .ftluftett 
SBarg ber Slroglobpte ftdj; 
£)er 5?omabe lief bie £riften 
SBitfte liegen, too er firtdj* 
9JUt bent $3utffpie$, ntit bem 23ogen 
©djrittber 3ager burd) bas Sanb; 
2Be^ bem trembling, ben bie SBogett 
SSarfen an ben Ungliicf^ftranbl 



ttnb auf tljrem $fab oegritf; te, 
3rrenb nad) beS $inbe3 ©pur, 
SereS bie oerlaffue ^itfte, 
21$, ba gritnte feine glur! 
£)a§ fte ^ier mtxaulify toeile, 
3ft fein Dobacfy ifyr geiuatyrt; 
Seines XtmptU f)ettre ©aule 
^eitget, bag man ©otter etjrt* 

$eine gru$t ber fitfien STe^ren 
£abt sum retnen $Jia$l fte etn; 
Sftur auf graf^ltdjen Slltdren 
£)orret menfdjlicfyes ©eoeiu, 
3a, fo tt>eit fte toanbernb Jreifle, 



139 



THE FESTIVAL OF ELEUSIS. 

Bend to a garland the gold wheat-ear, 

Weave with its kernels the violet's dye, 
Joy from all faces be beaming clear, 

For the Queen herself, the Queen draws nigh ; 
She, every barbarous passion quelling, 

Making man with his fellow consent, 
And into a peaceful, settled dwelling 

Turning his rude and wandering tent. 

In the shyest mountain cleft 

Held the Troglodyte abode ; 
Waste and bare the plains were left, 

Where the roving Nomad trode. 
With the arrow, with the bow, 

Ranged the hunter through the land ; 
Woe betide the stranger, woe ! 

Cast upon the luckless strand. 

On the search for her lost daughter, 

To these coasts, so rude and drear, 
Ceres' wandering steps had brought her ; 

Ah ! no fertile fields appear ! 
To detain her footsteps there, 

No built roof its welcome rears ; 
No proud temple's columns fair 

Tell that man the Gods reveres. 

No sweet fruits of harvest reach 

For her use their holy food : 
Human bones all ghastly bleach 

On the altar's pillar rude. 
And where'er her steps she turns, 



140 

ganb fte Stent u&eraff, 
Unb in tfjrem gro^en ©eifte 
3ammert fte be3 Sftenfdjen ^atf. 

fSmb 1 tdj fo ben Sftenfdjen tineber, 
£)em »tr nnfer 33itb getietyn, 
SDejfen fcfyottgefiatte ©Ueber 
■Drofcen tm DtympnS Mittjn? 
©aBen toir i§m gnm SBeft^e 
9Udjt ber (Srbe ©otterfdjoojj, 
Unb auf fetnem jlomgsfifce 
©cfyweift er elenb, f)eimatfyIo3? 

$itf)ft fcin ©ott mit tfjm (Srfrarmen? 
Werner au» ber <5el\jen £§or 
£ebet vfjn mit 2Bunberarmen 
2ht3 ber tiefen ©c^mac^ empor? 
3« be3 £>immel3 fel'gen ipofyen 
Sftiifyret fte ni$t frember <2d)mer$: 
2)odj ber 9Benfd$ett SJngft nnb 2Be$ett 
git^Iet mein gequalteS £er^ 

3)a§ ber Sftenfdj £nm 9ftenfdjen toerbe, 
©tiff er einen eto'gen S3 nnb 
©lan&ig mit ber frommen (Srbe, 
(Seinem miitter(id)en ©ritnb, . 
(£ljre bas ©efej ber 3 eiien 
Unb ber SJftonbe fteiPgen ©ang, 
SSetcfye ftid gemeffen fd)retten 
3m metobifcfyen ©efang* 

Unb ben 9foM fytilt fte teife, 
£)er ben 231itfen fte sertjiitlt; 
$ro£(id) in ber SCilben ^reife 
(Stei)t fie ba, ein ©otrerfcilb* 



140 

Sees she but a fallen fate, 
And her generous spirit burns, 
Sorrowing over man's lost state. 

Is it thus I find his nature, 

"Which we cast in our own mould ? 
"Whose divinely-modeled stature 

In Olympus we behold ? 
Gave we not to him the earth 

As a God's grant to possess ? 
And that realm of regal worth 

Roams he wretched, mansionless ? 

Will no God to pity warm ? 

None of all th' immortal race 
Stretch a wonder-working arm, 

Lift him from his deep disgrace ? 
In their heavenly, blest domain, 

They are dull to others' smart ; 
Yet does human dearth and pain 

Reach and wring my troubled heart. 

If man would become man's brother, 

Let him be in compact bound, 
Cordial, with his pious mother, 

With the all-sustaining ground ; 
Let him honor seasons, times, 

Trace the moon's pure course along ; 
Their calm movement ever chimes 

One melodious, endless song. 

And she softly bursts the cloud 
That detained her from their sight, 

And at once, 'mid that wild crowd, 
Stands revealed, — a form of light ! 



141 

<S$weTgenb Bel bent (Siegegma^jle 
$inbet fte bie rotje @d)aar, 
Unb bie ohttgefitffte @$ale 
23vingt man tf)r aunt Dpfer bar, 

5T6er fc^aubemb, ntit (£ntfe£en 
SBenbet fte ftd) tr-eg unb fpridjt: 
Shtt'ge Xigermafyle ne£en 
(£ineg Ootteg Sippen nicfyt 
S^eine Dpfer tt>itl er tjaoen, 
gritcftte, bie ber £er6jt befdjert, 
?0^tt beg $elbeg frontmen ©afcen 
SBirb ber ipeittge oere^rt 

Unb fte nintmt bie SBndjt bee ©peered 
2Xit^ be^ 3&3ers ranker £anb ; 
9fttt bent ©cfyaft beg Sftorbgerce^reg 
gurnet fte ben leid)ten €>anb, 
Nintmt oon ifyreg ^ran^eg @pt|e 
(£inen ^evn, ntit $raft gefitttt, 
(Senlt if)tt in bie jarte S^e, 
Unb ber Xrieo beg Sltimtd f$»ttfk. 

Unb ntit griinen Jpalmen fdjmittfet 
<&{&! ber S3oben alfoBalb, 
Unb fomeit bag 2lnge Micfet, 
SBogt eg mie ein golbner 2Baft>* 
£a$etnb fegttet fte bie (Srbe, 
glicfyt ber erften @arBe 23nnb, 
$Qtylt ben gelbftein ftd) 3um Jperbe, 
Unb eg fprtc^t ber ©otttn 9flunb: 

SSater 3 e u3, ^vc iiber aHe 
©otter $errfdjt in Sletfyetg ipofjn, 
2)af bieg Dpfer bir gefatte, 



141 

Hot were they with feast and slaughter, 
When among their horde she stood, 

And their savage shell they brought her 
Frothing with their foeman's blood. 

Horror thrilled her frame the while, 

And she turned away her head ; 
" Bloody tiger-meals defile 

Ne'er a God's pure lips," she said. 
" Stainless offerings are our pleasure, 

Fruitage which the fields afford ; 
With the Autumn's harvest treasure 

Will the Holy be adored." 

And she takes the spear-staff's weight 

From the hunter's rugged hand ; 
With its point of deadly fate 

Furrows she the yielding sand ; 
Plucks from out her bearded crown 

One small grain of hidden might ; 
Sinks it in its small trench down, 

And it swells and shoots to light. 

And with green blade instantly 

Does the ground its breadth adorn, 
And, as far as eye can see, 

Waves like golden boughs the corn. 
Smiling blesses she the earth, 

The first gathered sheaf she binds, 
Plants the field-stone for a hearth, — 

Utterance then the Goddess finds. 

" Father Jupiter, who reignest 

O'er all Gods in upper air, 
That t' accept our gift thou deignest, 
25 



142 

Sag eftt Stifytn je&t gef^etjtt ! 
Unb bent ungliicffePgen $o!fe, 
2)as bid), ipofyer, nodj ntcfyt nennt, 
Sftimm tjtnmeg be3 5luge3 SBotfe, 
Dag e$ feinen ©ott erfemtt! 

Unb eS fyort ber <5d)tr>ejrer gle^en 
3eu3 auf feinem fyofyn ©i£ ; 
£>onnernb aug ben Mauen ^)o^en 
SBirft er ben gegatfren 33li£. 
$raffe(nb fa'ngt e$ an gu lofyett, 
£>ebt fid) nrirbelnb som 2Htar, 
Unb bariiber fdjtoe&t in tjo^ett 
^reifen fein gefcfyminber 2lar. 

Unb geritljrt gu ber Jperrfdjertn gfijj en 
©tiirgt fidj ber Sfftenge freubig ®en>u§(, 
Unb bie ro|eti ©eelen gerf(ie§en 
3n ber 9ttenfd)ltd)fett erftem ©efiitjl, 
SBerfen oon ff$ bie Mutige 2Be^re, 
Deffnen ben bitftergebunbenen ©inn, 
Unb empfangen bie gott(td)e 2et)re 
2luS bem Sftunbe ber ^oniguu 

Unb son itjren Stjronen fteigen 
Sllle ipimmlifdjen fyerafc, 
£f)emi3 feller fiifyrt ben SReigen, 
Unb nut tem gerecfyten (Stab 
Sftift fie jebem feine Sfccfyte, 
<5e£et felbft ber ©range ©rein, 
Unb beg ©tyr oerborgne Sftcidjte 
Sabet fie gu 3 ei *gen e w* 

Unb e3 fommt ber ©ott ber @ffe, 
3eu^^ erpnbungSretcfyer ©ot)n, 



142 

Let some omen now declare. 
And from this ill-fated race, 

Who thy name have never known, 
Loftiest ! every dark cloud chase, 

That they may the Godhead own." 

And his sister's earnest cry 

Comes before the high-throned Sire ; 
Thundering from the clear blue sky, 

Flies his bolt of jagged fire. 
Now the altar, crackling bright, 

Forth its whirling columns pours ; 
With them, wheeled in circling flight, 

Up his swift-winged eagle soars. 

To the feet of the Goddess, with raptured devotion, 

The multitude press and bend the knee, 
And their rough souls melt with glad emotion 

In the first warm gush of humanity. 
And away they throw the murderous steel, 

And open their darkly-fastened mind, 
And the heavenly teaching receive and feel 

From the queenly friend of human kind. 

From the throne of his domain, 

Straight descends each helpful God ; 
Themis leads the immortal train, 

In her hand the righteous rod ; 
And she metes to each his right ; 

Plants herself the boundary stone, 
And the Styx's mystic might 

Calls to witness what is done. 

From amidst the forge's blaze 
Comes the inventive son of Jove ; 



143 

35iTbner fitnftlidjer (S5efage, 
£otfygete§rt in (£r$ nnb Xfyon. 
Unb er lefjrt bie $nnft ber gariQt 
Unb ber 23lafebdlge 3wg; 
Unter feineS ipammerS 3roange 
33ilbet jtd) guerft ber *Pfiug* 

tlnb Sftineroa, fjo$ ^or alien 
Sftagenb mtt genndjt'gem ©peer, 
Sagt bie ©ttmrne mdd)tig flatten 
Unb geBeut bent ®6tter()eer* 
gefte Sftanern mitt fte griinben, 
Sebem <Scfyn£ nnb (Sdjirm gn fein, 
2)ie ^erftrente SBelt jn Mnben 
3n ijertranlidjem Serein, 

Unb fte lenft bte iperrfdjerfdjritte 
£>nrd) be$ getbeS rceiten $lan, 
Unb an tfyreg guf e3 Xritte 
Jpeftet ft$ ber ©rdn^gott an* 
Sfteffenb fiifjret fte bie ^ette 
Urn be3 ipttgels gritnen ©aunt ; 
2ht$ beg milben ©tromeS 35ette 
©cfyHegt fte in ben tjetf'gen dlaum. 

%Ut 9tymptjen, Dreaben, 
2Me ber fdjnetfen 2lrtemi3 
golgen auf be3 Sergei $faben, 
©d)ft>ingenb ifyren 3dgerfpiep, 
5ltle fommen, atle legen 
£dnbe an, ber 3ufrel fcfyatfi:, 
Unb $on tfyrer 2lerte ©cfytdgen 
^radjenb ftitr^t ber gidjteiwalb* 



143 . 

Founder he of figured vase ; 

Brass and clay his skill approve. 
And how to clinch the tongs he shows, 

To blow the breathing bellows, how ; 
Beneath his hammer's clanging blows 

First of all comes forth the plough. 



And Minerva, high o'er all, 

Wields her spear of ponderous might, 
And with her majestic call 

Guides the heavenly throng aright. 
Walls she rears with deep foundations, 

For a refuge and defence, 
To enclose the scattered nations, 

Bound in mutual confidence. 



As her regal steps she bends 

O'er the landscape's ample rounds, 
Closely at her side attends 

Terminus, the God of bounds. 
And the chain's dividing thread 

Bound the hill's«green skirts she throws, 
And the torrent's wildest bed 

Girds within the sacred close. 



All the nymphs of cliff and fountain, 

Who Diana's bidding hear, 
Following her through grove and mountain, 

Brandishing their hunting-spear, — 
All are coming, all uniting 

In the work : their shouts resound, 
And before their axes smiting 

Crash the pine woods to the ground. 



144 

9Ttt$ and fettter grimett 2Betfc 
©teigt t>er fdjUf&efraitjte ©ott, 
SjBaljt belt fd)tt>erett ^(o§ $wr <&ttUt 
2htf ber ©ottitt SDTaftrgeBot; 
Uttb Me Ietd)tgefd)ur$tett (Stttttben 
§tiegett aits ©efdmft getrxmbr, 
Unb bie rait^ett (Stamme rtmbert 
3iertt^ ftd) iti ifyrer ipattb, 

2ht$ beit 9fteergott fte^t matt eilett; 
9taf$ mtt be3 £rtbettte$ @to§ 
23rtd)t er bie granitnen (Sdulen 
2ht3 bem Srbgerippe Ui, 
©djnjingt fte tit gemalt'gett ^attben 
£0$, rote eittett leicfyten SSaff, 
Uttb ntit JpermeS, bem Se^enben, 
£f)itrmet er ber demerit 2Batt. 

SIBer awS bett golbttett (Satten 
£ocft 21)) oil bie £armottie 
Uttb bag $ott>e 9fta§ ber 3eitett 
Uttb bie SfRadjt ber 9Mobie. 
fjftit tteunfttmmigem ©efattge 
^aftett bie Samottett eitt; 
Setfe nadj be3 SiebeS ^lattge 
gitget '(Idj ber ©tciti jum ©rettu 

Uttb ber £f)ore tr-eite ^litgel 
(5e{3et mtt erfafyrtter ipattb 
S^bele, ttttb fitgt bie Sieger 
Uttb ber <Sd)loj[er fefte» 23attb* 
©djnell burdj rafefye ©otterfyattbe 
3jt ber SBttttberBatt bdUbxafyt, 
Urtb ber £empel Retire 2Battbe 
©(dtt^ett fdjott ttt gejiesptadjjt. 



144 

From his mossy source remote 

Rousing him, the sedge-crowned God 
Rolls the heavy raft afloat 

At the Goddess' potent nod. 
Kirtled high, and light for duty, 

Fly the Hours, an eager band, 
And the rough trunks grow to beauty, 

Rounded by their busy hand. 

And the sea-God hastens on ; 

With his trident's rapid shock, 
From the ribbed earth's skeleton 

Breaks he loose the granite block. 
And his giant arms in air 

Toss it lightly as a ball ; 
Then, with Hermes' skilful care, 

Ramparts he the well-fenced wall. 

And from out his golden strings 

Phcebus draws sweet harmony, 
Time's delightful measurings, 

And the might of melody ; 
While the Muses' nine-tongued choir 

Blend their voices' magic tone, 
Till at sound of voice and lyre 

Stone in concert moves to stone. 

Folding gates with tables vast 

Hangs the experienced Cybele ; 
And she fits them iron-fast 

With the lock's strong ministry. 
Quick the wonder-pile 's complete, 

Built by rapid hands divine, 
And, for pomp of worship meet, 

Bright the temple's glories shine. 



145 

ttttb mit einem $ran$ son ^prten 
9la^t bie ©otterfonigin, 
Unb fte fit^rt ben fd)6nften £irtett 
gu ber fcfyonften iptrtin Ijin* 
SBenug mtt bem tjolben ^naBett 
©djmitcfet feloft bag crfte tyaav, 
2XIIe ©otter Bringen ©aoen 
©egnenb ben 2>ermaI)Iten bar* 

Unb bie neuen SBurger ^ieljen, 
$$on ber ©otter fePgem (Efyor 
(Singefittjrt mit Jparmonteen 
3n bag gaftlid) ojfne £ljor; 
Unb bag ^riefteramt serrcaltet 
(£ereg am 2lltar beg 3^3, 
©egnenb ifyre Jpanb gefalter, 
©prtd)t fte $u beg Soiled $retg: 

greifyeit ftebt bag Xfjier ber 2Mjte, 
gret im Sletfyer fyerrfcfyt ber ®ott, 
3i)rer 23ruft getoalt'ge Sitfte 
3a6met bag 9?aturgeoot; 
Dod) ber SSftenfd) in il)rer 5D?tttc 
©oil ftdj ait ben 9ftenf$en reiljn, 
Unb atXein burdj feine @itte 
$ann er frei unb mad) tig fein* 

UBinbet gum ^ran^e bie golbenen Sle^ren, 
gledjtet and) Bfaue S^anen tyinein! 
greube foil jebeg 5Inge serflaren, 
£)enn bie jtonigm jiefyet ein, 
£>ie ung bie fiijje £eimati) gegeBen, 
!Dte ben 9ftenfd)en jnm Sftenfdjett gefellt. 
Unfer ©efang foil fte fefttid) erfyeBen, 
£)ie Begliidenbe Gutter ber SBelt! 

©filler* fammtt. 2Ber!e. I. 10 



145 

With a myrtle crown, again, 
Comes the Queen of Gods to bless ; 

And she leads the sightliest swain 
To the loveliest shepherdess. 

Yenus with her beauteous boy- 
Decks, herself, the youthful pair ; 

All the Gods bring gifts, with joy, 
Blessing the first- wedded there. 

Ushered by that troop immortal, 

Does the new-made people throng, 
Guest-like, through the open portal, 

Music charming them along. 
Ceres at the altar stands, 

And the priestly oftering pays, 
Blessing with her folded hands ; 

Then to all aloud she says : 

" Freedom is the beast's wild pleasure ; 

Free the God in iEther reigns ; 
Their fixed nature is the measure 

That their fiery wills restrains. 
Less than Gods, of brutes the betters, 

Men with men close bound should be ; 
Only as their duty's debtors 

Are they strong, or are the}'- free." 

Bend to a garland the gold wheat-ear, 

Weave with its kernels the violet's dye ; 
Joy from all faces be beaming clear, 

For the Queen herself, the Queen draws nigh. 
She, who has given us home and brother, 

Making man with his fellow consent ! 
To her, the all-propitious mother, 

The song of our ceaseless praise be sent ! 

JV. L. Frothingham. 



146 
J)er ogling bes WotyfoaUs. 

@r ftattb attf feined £>a$eg Qinmn, 
Sr fcbattte mtt sergnttgten ©tttttett 
2luf bag bef)errfcbte ©amog tyttu 
„©iea Meg ift mir utttertbanig," 
23egamt er ju Sleg^ptettg ^otttg, 
„®eftefye, ba§ tdj glittflicfy Bin/' — 

„£)u Ijajl ber ©otter ©uttft erfabrett! 

£>te sormalg bettteg ©tetd)ett toarett, 

@ie jwingt je|t beitteg >3cepterg -iJftadjk. 

£)odj (Sitter lebt nod), fte $tt racben; 

£tdj fatttt mettt SUZunb tttdjt gliitflidj fprec^ett, 

@o lattg beg getttbeg 2lttge toafyt." — 

Uttb rfj ber $6tttg noc| geettbet, 
£)a ftetCt ftd), oott miltt gefenbet, 
Sin 23ote bem Sprattnett bar: 
„2a§, £err, beg Dpferg £ttfte fteigett, 
Uttb mtt beg Sorbeerg mtttttertt 3^etgett 
23efratt$e bir bettt feftttd) £aar!" 

„®etroffett fan! beitt geittb oom ©peere, 
Siftid) fettbet mtt ber frozen Wlafyvt 
£>ettt treuer gelbfyerr ^olpbor — " 
Uttb tttmmt aug etttem fdjmar^ett SBecfett, 
sftodj blttttg, ju ber 23eibett (Sd^retfen, 
(£tti mo t)tbef attttteg ipaupt l)er»or* 

£)er StoniQ tritt jurticf mtt ©ratten. 
„Do(| warn' ify bid), bem ©lite! git trauett/' 
SScrfe^t er mtt beforgtem Sfuf. 
„Q3ebenf , auf ttttgetreuett SBetlen — 
2Bte leidjt fatttt fte ber <8tttrm gerfdjetfen, — 
©djwimmt beitter glotte jtoeifelttb ®IM." 



146 



POLYCRATES AND HIS KING. 

He stood upon his palace-wall. 

His proud eye wandered over all • 

The wealth of Samos, east and west. 
"See ! this is mine — all this J govern !" 
He said, addressing Egypt's Sovereign, 

" Confess ! my lot indeed is blest !" 

" Yes, thou hast won the Gods' high favor. 
For nobler men than thou, and braver, 

Thy rivals once, are now thy slaves ; 
But, Fate will soon revenge the wrong — 
I dare not call thee blest, so long 

As Heaven is just or Earth has graves !" 

"While yet he spake, behold ! there came 
A messenger in Milo's name — 

" Health to the great Poly crates !" 
O King, braid laurels in thy hair, 
And let new Paeans thrill the air, 

And incense-offerings load the breeze ! 

" Spear-pierced, thy rebel foe lies dead. 
Behold I I bear the traitor's head, 

Sent by thy General, Polydore." — 
Unrolling a dark shroud of cloth, 
He bared, before the gaze of both 

A ghastly head, still dropping gore ! 

The Stranger King shrank back a pace, 
Then said — " Thou art of mortal race : 

On earth Success but heralds 111. 
Thou hast a fleet at sea : Beware ! 
For waves and winds heed no man's prayer, 

And Tempest wakes at Neptune's will !" 



147 

Unb t1f er no$ bag 2Bort gefprodjen, 
$at i§n ber 3w^^l unterfcrodjen, 
2)er ijott bet !ft{)ebe Jaud)genb fc^aUt, 
SDftt fremben ©d)a£ert reid) Maben, 
$ef)rt gu bett l)eimifd)ett ©eftaben. 
£)er @$iffe maftenreicfyer SBalb, # 

£)er fottigltdje ®a(l erftautteh 
„£)ein ©litcf if* $eute gut gelaunet, 
S)oc^ fiird)te fctnctt Unbeftanb* 
£)er Ureter ttajfenhmb'ge ©djaarett 
23ebrauen bidj mit ^riegggefafjrett; 
<5d)on natje [tub fie biefem ©tranb." 

Unb d)' ifjm nod) bag SBort entfatten, 
©a ftetjt man'3 »on ben ©cfyiffen toattm, 
Unb taufenb ©timmeu rufen: „©ieg! 
53on ^einbegno-tf) finb mir fcefretet, 
£)te Ureter fiat ber (Sturm gerftreuet, 
23orBei, geenbet ift ber $rieg!" 

S)a§ §6rt ber ©aftfreunb mit ©ntfc^ctt, 
„$urtt>at)r, tdj mup bid) gfttcfftdj fd>a£eu! 
2)odj," fpridjt er, ,,gtttr 1 id) fiir inn $tiL 
9ft ir grauet ttor ber ©otter 9Mbe; 
©e^ SeBeng uugemifd)te ^reube 
SEBarb feinem 3rbifcfyen gu %^nV 

„5htdj mir ift aHea too^I gerattjm, 
SSei alien meinen £errfd)ertt)aten 
33egfeitet mtd) beg £immelg £utb; 
£)odj fyatt' tdj einett tfyeuren (£rBen, 
£)en nafym mir ©ott, id) fat) ifyn fterBen, 
£)em ©litcf Be^lt 1 idj meine S^uft." 



147 

But hark ! a loud, a deafening shout 
Of welcome from the throng without 1 

" Joy ! joy !" The fleet so long away, 
So long away, so long awaited, 
At last is come, and, richly freighted, 

Casts anchor in the exulting bay !" 

The Eoyal Guest hears all, astounded. 
" Thy triumphs, truly, seem unbounded, 

But are they ? No ! Thy star will set ; 
The javelins of the Cretan hordes 
Strike surer home than Samian swords, 

And thou must fall before them yet !" — 

Even while he warns again rejoice 
The crowd with one tumultuous voice — 

" Hurrah ! Dread Sovereign, live alway ! 
The war is over ! Lo ! the storms 
Have wrecked thy foes ! The savage swarms 

Of Crete and Thrace are Neptune's prey !" 

" It is enough !" exclaimed the Guest : 
" Blind Mortal ! call thyself the Blest- 
Feel all that Pride and Conquest can ! 
I here predict thine overthrow, 
For, perfect bliss, unstarred with woe, 
Came never yet from God to Man. 

" I too have been most fortuna'te : 
At home, abroad, in camp and state, 

The bounteous Gods long favored me — 
Yet I have wept ! My only-cherished, 
My son died in my arms ! He perished, 

And paid my debt to Destiny. 



148 

„£)rum, nrilfji bit btd^ sor Sett) Beioatjren, 
@o flelje gu ben Urtftc^tBarett, 
£>af fte gum ©Itttf ben ©d^merg oerfei^n* 
9tfod) fetnen fatj i$ frofytidj ettben, 
5luf ben mit immer ootlen £anben 
£>ie ©otter ityre ©aBen fireun," 

„Unb toenn'3 bie ©otter nidjt getoatjren, 
©o acfyt 1 anf eines ^reunbes Setyren 
Unb rufe fetBft bag Ungtittf tjer; 
Unb toa3 oon atten beinen ©(^a^ett 
3Mn £erg am l)6d)ften mag ergofjen, 
£)a$ nimm unb toirfs in biefe$ 9fteer!" 

Unb 3ener fprt$t, oon ^urdjt Beioeget; 
„93on aHem, toa$ bie 3nfel tjeget, 
3ft btefer IRing metn fyocfyfteS ©ut* 
3fyn mitt idj ben (Srinnen mei^en, 
DB fte metn ©littf mtr bann oergettjen," 
Unb mirft bad ^leinob in bie glutt^ 

Unb Bet beS-nacfyften 9ftorgen3 Sictyte — 
£)a tritt mit fro^lic^em ©eft^te 
(Sin Oftfdjer oor ben gitrften t)tn: 
„£err, biefen gifdj Jjafc' id) gefangen, 
28ie feiner nod) in3 5^e^ gegangen, 
£)tr gum ©efd)en!e Bring 1 tdj tfyn/' 

Unb all ber ^ot^ ben glfd) gert^eilet; 

^omrnt er Beftitrgt fjerBeigeeilet 
Unb ruft mit tyocfyerftauntem SBIidPt 
„©iefy, £err, ben Sfttng, ben bu getragen, 
3tjn fanb tdj in be3 gtfd)e3 Siftagen, 
£), o^ne ©rangen ift bein ©Hid I" 



148 

" If thou, then, wilt propitiate Fate, 
Pray God forthwith to adulterate 

Thy Cup of Joy ! In all my past 
Experience never knew I one 
Who too long filled a golden throne, 

But Ruin crushed the wretch at last ! 

"But if God will not hear thy prayer, 
Then woo Misfortune by some snare, 

Even as the fowler sets his gin. 
Hast here some jewel, some rare treasure, 
Thou lovest, prizest beyond measure ? 

The sea rolls yonder — hurl it in !" 

Replied the Host, now seized with fear, 
"My realm hath nought I hold so dear 

As this resplendent opal ring : 
If that may calm the Furies' wrath, 
Behold I I cast it in their path ;" — 

And forth he ilung the glittering thing. 

But when the morn again was come, 
There stood without the palace-dome 

A fisher with his teeming flasket, 
Who cried, " Great King, thy days be pleasant ! 
Thou wilt not scorn my humble present, 

This fish, the choicest in my basket." 

And ere the mid-day meal the cook, 
With joy and wonder in his look, 

Rushed in, and fell before his Master — 
" O glorious Victor ! matchless King ! 
Within the fish I found thy ring ! 

Thou wast not born to know Disaster I" 



149 

£ter tuettto ftdj *>« (3a\t mtt ©raufen: 
„<So fctnn i& Mer ntdjt ferner Ijaufeit, 
Wtnn greunb fannft bu ntd)t toeiter feitu 
S)ie ©otter toollen betn 23erber6en; 
gort eil 1 tcft, ntdjt mtt btr ju [terpen. " 
Unb fpradj'g, unb fc^tjfte fdjnetf fid^ ettt* 



2>te ^ranitfje 5cs §{h?(ht$5. . 

3ttm $ampf ber SGagen unb ©efangc, 
SDer auf ^ortntbug 1 Sanbegenge 
!Der ©rtec&en Stamme frolj oeretnt, 
3og So^htg, ber ©otterfreunb. 
3^m frf)enfte bea ©efange^ ©aoe, 
£er Steber (ugen s J>?unb 2lpott ; 
<5o rcanbert' er an (etcfytem Stabe 
$ug Sfikgium, be» ©otteg »ott. 

(gcfton toinft auf f)of)em ©ergegritcfen 
3t!ro!ortnt^ beg SBanbrerg 23licfert, 
Unb in ^pofetbong ^td)tenfratn 
Srttt er mtt frommem ©cfyauber etn* 
9hd)tg regt ftdj «m t§n §er ; nnr Sdjmarme 
SSon ,ftranid)en begletten tjjn, 
2)te fern^in na$ beg Sitbeng SJarme 
3n graultcfrtem ©efd)tt>ater gie^it, 

„<Setb mtr gegritft, befreunbte (Sdjaaren! 
!Dte mir pr See 23eg(eiter toaren, 
3um guten Sti&jtn nefjm' tdj euc&, 
Wltin Zoo*, eg iji bem enren gtetdj* 
3Son fern Ber lommen ftir ge^ogen 
Unb fte^en urn em nurttytidj "Lad) — 



149 

Hereon uprose the G-uest in dread : 
"I tarry here too long," he said ; 

" O, prosperous wretch ! my friend no more ! 
The Gods have willed thy swift perdition ! 
J will not bide the Avenger's mission !" 

He spake, and straightway left the shore. 

James Clarence Mangan. 



THE CRAKES OF IBYCUS. 

To strife of Chariot-race and Song 
The tribes of Greece round Corinth throng; 
And Ibjrcus, beloved of all 
The immortal Gods, obeys the call : 
But, most by great Apollo fired, 

He sails from Rhegium far away, 
With master-hand and heart inspired, 
And voice to breathe the sweetest lay. 

And now upon its mountain-height 
Acrocorinthus hove in sight ; 
And awe-struck now the Poet trod 
The piny grove of Ocean's God. 
Lone was the way ; no living thing 

Had cheered the Pilgrim, save on high 
A flight of wandering Cranes, a-wing 
Southward, to seek a warmer sky. 

" All hail ! propitious heralds ! ye 
Who marshal me by land and sea : 

Omen of good ! I greet you fair — 

Like dole and destiny we share : 
To distant climes together rove, 
Implore alike a friendly shed, 

26 



150 

(Set un$ ber ©ajUidje getoogen, 

£)er conbem grembltttg tr-efyrtbte ©djmadjl" 

Unb muntcr forbert er bte ©djritte, 
Unb ftefyt jt$ to ^ SBatbes 9JWte; 
2)a fperren auf gebrangem ©teg 
3ft>ei Berber plo^Udj fetnen 2Beg» 
,3um ^ampfe mug er ft$ Bereiten, 
£)odj 6alb ermattct jinft bie ipanb, 
©te §at ber Scicr $arte fatten, 
£)odj uie beS Cogens $raft gefpannt 

(Sr ruft bte 9flenfdjen an, bte ©otter, 
©em gfetjeu brtngt gu feinem better; 
S3te h?cit er and) bte ©timme fdndt, 
SfticfytS MenbeS ftnrb fyter erBttdt. 
„©o mu§ idj $ier tterlaffen fterBen, 
2htf frembem 23oben, unBetoetnt, 
©urdj Bofer 33uBen £anb tterberBen, 
2Bo and) fein IRac^er mtr erfefyeint!" 

Unb fdjmer getroffen fmft er nteber, 
T>a raufdjt ber ^rantcfye ©efteber; 
@r §6rt, fcfyon faun er ntd)t met)r fefju, 
jDie naijeu ©ttmmen furdjrfcar fratytu 
„33on m&), it)r ^ranidje bort oBen, 
SBettn leine cmbre ©ttmme fprtd)t, 
©ei metneS Forbes Matf ert^oBen!" 
(Sr ruft e3, uub fein $uge Bricfyt 

SDer nadte £etdmam ttnrb gefunbeu, 
Unb Balb, oBgleid) entfteEt son SBunben, 
Gsrfennt ber ©aftfreunb in $orint§ 
Qb duQtf ^ ^ m t^euer [tub* 



150 

Suppliants of hospitable Jove, 
The guardian of each houseless head." 



So forth he fared in cheerful mood ; 
When, deep within a trackless wood, 
Two fierce marauders crouching lay, 
And hemmed him in the narrow way. 
For life he strove ; but wearied soon 

His hands the unequal fight forego ; 
More wont the tender chord to tune, 
Than fiercely bend the stubborn bow. 

All unavailing was his cry 

To God and man ; no ear or eye 
"Witnessed the deed : his mortal moan 
Expired in echoes faint and lone. 
"And must I thus forsaken fall, 
An outcast in a foreign land ; 
Unpitied, unavenged of all, 
And slaughtered by a ruffian hand ?" 

Thus sore beset he grasps the ground ; 
When near and nearer hovering round 
A rush of pinions cleaved the air, 
And shrieks that mingled with his prayer. 
He heard — but vainly strove to view : 

And "Oh! — since ye alone," he cried, 
"Behold my doom — ye Cranes ! of you 

I crave revenge "- 

The mangled corpse, in death's disguise, 
Scaped not the search of friendly eyes ; 
By all in Corinth mourned, but most, 
By one — his fond expectant host. 



151 

„ltnb mug tdj fo Mdj toieber ftnben, 
Unb Ijoffte mit ber gid)te ^ran^ 
3De^ ©angers ©cfylafe gu umaunben, 
23eftra§It oon femes 9tu$mes ©langi" 

Unb iammernb f)oren^ aUe ©dfie, 
SSerfammelt bet $ofeibon3 gefte, 
($an% ©rtedjenlanb ergretft ber @$mer$, 
33erIoren $at ifyn jebeS £er$. 
Unb ftiirmenb brangt fidj $um ^rtytanen 
£)a3 S3oIf, es forbert feine SButf), . 
3u racfyen beS (Srfcfylagnen 9ftanen, 
3u fiilmett mit be£ Berbers 23lut* 

S)o$ mo bie ©pur, bie au$ ber SSftenge, 
£)er S3o(ler flutfyenbem ©ebrcinge, 
©elocfet oon ber ©piele 3)radjt, 
£)en [coarsen £pter fentttlidj madjt? 
©inb'S Sftauoer, bie ilm feig erfefytagen? 
Z§a?$ netbiftty ein oeroorgner $etnb? 
Sftur £eIio3 oermag 1 ^ $u fagen, 
£>er aHeS 3rbtfcfye oefefyeint 

(£r getyt fctetletdjt mit frec^em ©cfjrttte 
3e£t eBen bur$ ber ®rie$en Sftttte, 
Unb tod^renb ifm bie SRafyt fudjt, 
($5enief$t er feineS greoefs grudjt. 
5luf ttyreS eignen ZemptU ©djtoetle 
Slro^t et oietteidjt ben ©ottem, mengt 
<5td) breift in jene Slftenfdjenmetle, 
£)ie bort ftdj pm Sweater brdngt* 

£)enn San! an 23anf gebrdnget ft^en, 
(£3 Bremen fa (I ber Sutyne (Stiifcen, 
£eroeigeftromt oon fern unb na^, 



151 

" And is it thus, poor friend ! we meet ? 

I thought to weave thy piny crown ; 
And hail thee in the highest seat, 

Bright in the halo of Eenown." 

Such was the plaint, o'erheard of all 
At great Poseidon's festival : 
All Greece in sorrowing bore a part ; 
His loss sank deep in every heart. 
Myriads attracted to the show 

Invoke the Manes of the dead, 
And shout from every crowded row 
For vengeance on the murderer's head. 

But who of all that mighty throng 
Allured by Chariot-race and Song, 
If haply lurking there, might trace 
The ruffian to his hiding-place ? 
What hand had dealt the treacherous blow 

"Was hid from every eye but one — 
Or bandit fierce or envious foe — 
The glorious all-beholding Sun ! 

With dauntless brow and bloody hand 
Perchance he stalks throughout the land, 
And revels in his lawless spoils, 
Till Justice grasps him in her toils : 
Perchance amid yon swarm and stir 

At open day he dares defy, 
In temple and in theatre, 
Both mortal man and deity. 

Por bench on bench and tier on tier 
The Many gathering far and near 
Assembled sat — the giant pile 



152 

£)er ©rtecfyett Poller ttartenb fccu 
£)nmpf6ranfenb tote beg Sifteereg SBogen, 
SSon Sftenfdjen nummelnb toacfyft ber 23au 
3n setter (lets gefd)tuetftem S3ogen 
£inanf Mg in be$ £tmmelg 23lan* 

SBer ga^lt bte Golfer, nennt bie Harnett, 

£)te gaftitcfy ^ier jufammen famen? 

SSon $iefeng' <Stabt, son Stntig* (Strang 

SSon $1)ocig, som ©pattanerlanb, 

SSon 2lfteng entlegner $itfte, 

SSon alien 3nfein lamen fie, 

Unb Jjotcfyen t>on bem ©djattgentfie 

SDeg (Scores granfer SSMobie, 

2)er, ftreng nnb ernft, na$ alter (Sttte, 
9Jttt langfam abgemeffnem ©djrttte 
^>ert>ortrttt au$ bem £intergrnnb, 
Umwanbetnb beg Sweaters $nnb* 
(5o fcfyretten feme irb'fdjen SBetfcer, 
S)ie geugete fein ftetMtcfy £ang! 
@g fteigt bag SRtefenmaf} ber £eifcer 
£od) itfcer 2!ftenfd)iidjeg tyinang* 

(gin fdjmarger Mantel fcfylagt bte £enben, 
©ie fcfymtngen in entfteifcfyten £anben 
£)er gadel bnfterrotfje ®lntf), 
3n tfyten SBangen flte^t letn S3fut; 
Unb n>o bte £aare IteMtd) flattern, 
Urn 9ftenfd)enfttrnen frennblicfy ttelm, 
£)a fte^t man ©cfylangen Ijter nnb 9lattexxi 
2)ie gtftgefcfytsounen 33an$e Watjn* 

Unb fdjauertid), gebreljt im .ftretfe, 
23eginnen fie ^ $ymnu$ SBeife, 



152 

Beneath its burden groans the while — 
Hoarse-murmuring, as when Ocean raves, 

Aloft its breathing bulk it rears, 
And heaves its circulating waves 
To the blue sky and starry spheres. 

"Who knows the nation, who the name, 
Of all who there together came ? 
From Theseus' town, from Aulis' strand, 
From Phocis, from the Spartan land, 
From Asia's distant coast, the}'' wend, 

From every island of the sea, 
And from the stage they hear ascend 
The Chorus's dread melody.* 

In ancient wise, with measured gait, 
Sweeps the wild dance in grisly state, 
Forth from the Orchestra's hindmost ground, 
Pacing the spacious Circle round. 
No foot of earth-born woman treads 
That awful maze ; no earthly roof 
Housed those huge limbs — so high their heads 
Tower above human form aloof! 

Their loins a sable mantle shrouds, 
Their fleshless hands, in lurid clouds 
Whirl the red torch ; a wrinkled streak 
Furrows each wan and haggard cheek : 
. And where, from mortal brows, the hair 

In love-alluring tresses hangs, 
There, bloated snakes and adders glare 
With gloating eyes and baneful fangs. 

Now hand in hand, in circle grim, 
Sternly they chant the solemn hymn ; 



* See Note ie. 



153 

£)er burtSj bag £er$ ^erretgenb brtngt, 
■Die 33anbe urn ben ^reoler fd)lmgt» 
©efmnungrauoenb, ^cr^Bct^orcnb 
<5d)atlt ber Srinn^en ©efang, 
(£r fdjaUt, be^ iporerg Sftarf tter^etjrenb, 
Unb bulbet nid)t ber Seier $Iang: 

„2Bo$I bem, ber fret Don Sdjulb unb ge$Ie 
23emaljrt bte fmblidj reine ©eele! 
3#m bvtrfen t»tr ntdjt radjenb na^n, 
(£r manbelt fret beg 2e£eng 53a^tu 
2)0$ n?e$e, roelje, roer t>erftot)len 
©eg 9ftorbeg fc^mere £§at sotforadjt! 
SBir tyeften ung an feme (Sofylen, 
£)ag furdjtoare ©ef<$le$t ber 9?adjt" 

„Unb gtauBt er fltetjenb gn entfprmgen, 
©cflugclt ftnb toiv ba, bte ©cfylingen 
3^m toerfenb urn ben jTitd)f gen guf, 
£>a£j er gn 23oben fatten mug. 
@o jagen nur i§tt, o$n' Srmatten, 
SSerfo^nen fann ung feme #teu\ 
3^n fort unb fort Big gn ben ©fatten, 
Unb geoen tfm and) bort ntcfyt freu" 

@o fmgenb, tanjen fte ben 0tetgen, 
Unb ©tide, tine beg £obeg @$»eigen, 
£tegt ttberm gan^en £>aufe farcer, 
5Ug oft bte ©ottfjeit nafye toax\ 
Unb feierftdj, nadj alter <Sitte, 
Umtr-anbelnb beg Sweaters Sftunb, 
SJlit langfam atgentejfnem ©djritte 
23erfd)nunben fte im ^intergrunb. 



153 

Coiling around, and to the core 
Piercing the guilt-struck heart, with lore 
That spurns the feebly warbling lyre, 
And to the marrow strikes amain. 
Hark ! 'tis Erinnys leads the choir,. 
Withering with fear the frenzied brain. 



" O fair befall the spirit pure, 
Whose child-like innocence, secure 
From our immitigable wrath, 
Glides on through life's bewildered path : 
But woe the while to him, who feels 
The dire remorse, the guilty fright 
Wherewith we dog the murderer's heels — 
We, the gaunt hounds of ghastly Night. 

" Thinks he to scape — anon we wing 
The restless chase ; anon we fling 
The tangling noose, which so inthrals 
His foot, that staggering, down he falls. 
No prayer averts the coming woe, 
No pity soothes his fell despair : 
Down to the groundless pit below 
We track — and hunt him even there." 



Thus choiring still, they weave the dance ; 
By turns retreat, by turns advance : 
At length a silence, deep and drear, 
As if the God himself drew near, 
Lulls all the air — In grisly state 

They pace the spacious circle round, 
In ancient wise, with measured gait, 
And vanish in the hindmost ground. 



154 

Unb jtuiftfett £ritg unb 3B<tfy$ett fdjtteltl 
91 ccf* jtoetftlttb jtlt 5? r it ft uifD fcebet, 
Unb (julbiget ber furdjtbartt 9Ra<§t, 
£ie ridjtenb im SerBorgttett ttadjr, 
£ie unerforfcMtcB, unergriinbet 
£)es ©djidfjals bunfelit Jhtauel flt^t, 
£em tiefen J^crjcn pdj sertunbet, 
£ocfr fuefret &01 tern ^onnenttd)t. 

£a Bert mart anf ten ec^ftcn (Stufcn 

Sluf einrrtal elite Sttmme rufen: 

„Siefr ta, fielj ta, £imotfceu$, 

Die tfranitfe be? 3tyftt$!" — 

Unb ftnjlcr pler4id\ n.urt bet £tmmel, 

Unt itcer tern £$eater bin 

<5kbt man in f<$tt>argHd}tetn ©ereimrnel 

Sin &rant($$eet 9orubergie^it« 

„£)e3 SfyfuS!" — £>er t$eirre 9?ame 

IRii^rt jebe SSrujt mit nenem ©rame, 

Unb nue im SOZeere 2BetP auf £M\ 

So Iauft'3 pen ?Jtunb ju SDfoutbe fcf^neU: 

,,1^3 3&9ftt$? ben nur berceinen? 

£en eine vOierberfranb erfcrdug? 

2£a3 ift'g mit tern? toa$ !ann er meinen? 

2Ba$ tji'S mit biefem ,ftranid^ug?" — 

Unb tauter immer nurb bie %ra$t, 
Unb afment flteat'3 mit 33ti£e€fd}tage 
£ur$ aHe ^er^en: „©eBet 5Xd>t, 
£)a3 ift ber SmfietttbeR ?)ia&t! 
£)er fromme £icrter trtrt aerecfreu, 
£er Sorter M:tet felSft ftdj bar — 
Grgretft irm, ber bas SSort gefprod?en, 
Unb Ujit, an ten's geriqtet rear I" 



154 

'Twixt truth and fiction, doubt and fear, 
Throbs every pulse, and thrills each ear ; 
And every sense submissive cowers 
Beneath the inexorable Powers — 
Inscrutable ! — whose hands the thread 

Of Fate unravel, and display 
Horrors that haunt the midnight bed, 
But fly before the broad-eyed day. 

'Twas then, that from the farthest row 
A voice came wafted down below, 
" Lo there ! lo there ! Timotheus ! 
The fatal Cranes of Ibycus !" 
"Whereon a sudden darkness veils 

The massive pile and listening throng : 
Aloft the winged Squadron sails, 
And slowly wheeling sweeps along. 

"Of Ibycus !" — that cherished name 
Home to each heart responsive came 
From mouth to mouth, as bursts the roar 
Of wave on wave along the shore. 
" Say what of Ibycus ? the source 
Of all our tears, untimely slain ! 
"What mean yon ominous birds, that course 
Athwart the air in sullen train ?" 

Loud and more loud the question grew, 
As thought foreboding flashed anew, 
Like lightning, on each troubled breast : 
" The murderous wrong shall be redrest, 
The sacred Bard avenged— Lay hands 

On him that spoke, and him who near 
The speaker, pale and trembling stands — 
Take note — th' avenging Fiends are here I" 



155 

£>o$ bent mar faum bag SBort entfaljren, 
Wlofy? er'3 int SBufcrt gem oeioafyren; 
Umfonjl! ©er fd)recfen6reid)e $htnb 
Sftadjt fd^iictC bie ©cfyulboefeufjtett fnnb. 
Sftan ret jt unb fd^teppt fie oor ben 9tid)ter, 
Die (Scene toirb gitm SriBnnal, 
Unb e3 geftefyn bie Sefemtc^ter, 
©etroffen son ber Siafyt <5txo$L 



$ero link Jeatibcr. 

@e$t tfyr bort bie altergranen 
©cfyloffer ftd) entgegenfd)anen, 
£en$tenb in ber (Sonne ®olb, 
S3o ber £etfegpont bie SBetten 
SBraufenb bnrd) ber £)arbanellen 
£o$e gelfenpforre roEt? 
£ort t§r jene 33ranbnng jtiirmen, 
2)ie ftcb, an ben ^elfen orient? 
Sljten rig \k son (Snropen; 
SDodj bie Sieoe fdjrecft fie nidjt 

£ero3 nnb SeanberS ^er^en 
fRityxtt mit bem $fett ber @d}mer$en 
SImorS IjeiPge ©otterntadjh. 
£ero, f$6n tote £eoe Mtifyenb, 
©r bnrdj bie (SJeotrge ^ietjenb 
SRiijtig im ©eranfefy ber 3agb* 
£)o$ ber 3Sater feinbltdj 3urnen 
SErennte bag oerftnnbne $aar, 
Unb bie ftife grncfyt ber £ie£e 
£tng am 5I6grnnb ber ©efa^r* 



155 

In vain the felon would retract 
The damning words : the treacherous act 
Wan lips and quivering limbs betray, 
And Justice seizes on her prey. 
The scene a dread Tribunal grown, 

The Prytanes in pomp arrayed, 

With blood for blood the deed atone, 

And vindicate the Poet's shade. 

E. B. Impey. 



HERO AND LEANDER. 

Mark ye how yon time-worn towers, 
In the golden noon-tide hours, 

Greet each other o'er the straits, 
Where the Hellespont rolls thundering 
Through the Dardanelles, wide sundering 

In his march their rocky gates ? 
Hear ye how the stormy surges, 

Moaning, lash the naked rock, 
Asia's coast from Europe rending ? — 

Love fears not their sullen shock. 



Long had Hero and Leander, 
Pierced by Love's resistless arrow, 

Nursed a sweet and secret pang ; 
Hero, fair as Hebe blooming, 
He, through wild and mountain roaming, 

Where the chase tumultuous rang. 
Pearful feuds, their sires dividing, 

Frowned upon the lovers' bliss, 
And the fruit of sweet affection 

Hung o'er danger's wild abyss. 



156 

Dort attf ©eftog' $elfentf)urme, 
2>n mit eft'gem SBogenfturme 
©cfydumenb fdjlagt ber £ettegpcmt, 
©a£ bie 3ungfrau, einfam grauenb, 
*Katf> Slb^bog' ^iifte fd)auenb, 
2Bo ber ipeifjgeliebte foofynt 
$dj, ^u bem entfernten ©trcmbe 
33aut jtdj leiner SBriitfe ©teg, 
Unb lettt 3?a$r$eug ftoft oom Ufer; 
£)odj bie £tebe fanb ben $3eg. 

9Jug be^ Sab^rintfjeg $faben 
Seitet fie mit ftdjerm gabett, 
2Iud) ben 23lobett mad)t fie flug, 
SSeugt ing 3odj bie itulben Sfyiere, 
©pannt bie feuerfpriifynben ©Here 
5ln ben biamantnen $flug. 
©elbft ber ©h)r, ber neunfadj fliefjet, 
©d)lie§t bie SBagenbe tticfyt and', 
9ftdd)tig raubt fie bag (Mtebte 
$ug beg tyluto fmfterm £aug, 

2Iud) burdj beg ®ett>«fferg gluten 
Wat ber ©efynfucfyt feur'gen ©lutfyett 
©tac^elt fie £eanberg Wluty. 
SBenn beg Xageg fetter (Shimmer 
23lei$et, ftitr^t ber finite ©djnnmmer 
3n beg spontug ftnftre %luty, 
Zfyilt mit ftarlem 2Irm bie SBoge, 
©trebenb nad) bem tfyeuren ©tranb, 
2Bo, auf fyol)em ©otter leucfytenb, 
mntt ber gacfel feller Sranb, 

Unb in ttet^en Siebegarmen 
2)arf ber ©liicf Udje ewarmen 



156 

There, on Sestos' rocky tower, 
Where tempestuously each hour 

Wild the Euxine moans and swells, 
Sat the maiden, lone and weary, 
Gazing o'er the waters dreary, 

Where the fondly loved one dwells. 
Ah, no bridge across those billows 

Shall her trembling footsteps stay ; 
No bold vessel stems the surges ; 

Love alone hath found the way. 

Clear as noon Love's torch-light blazes ; 
Through the labyrinth's endless mazes, 

With sure thread, he walks, and now, 
By his touch wild monsters taming, 
Binds the steer, with nostrils naming, 

To his adamantine plough. 
E'en the sullen Styx he crosses, 

Heeding not the nine-fold tide ; 
Pierces Pluto's gloomy mansion, 

And regains the long-lost bride. 

Now he bids the brave Leander 
Breast it where those billows wander, 

Kindling well his youthful blood ; 
And, when daylight's lingering glimmer 
Fades away, the dauntless swimmer 

Plunges down the gloomy flood. 
With strong arm he cleaves the surges, 

Straining for the well-known shore, 
Where the flashing torch-light beckons 

Prom the lone and lofty tower. 

Now, the hard-fought journey over, 
May the fainting, happy lover 



157 

S5on ber fdjtter Bejknbnen $d)rr, 
Unb ben ©otterloljn entpfangen, 
2)en in feltgem Umfangen 
3^m bte SteBe aufgefpart, 
23tg ben ©aumenben Aurora 
2htg ber SBonne £raumen toectr, 
Unb ins latte 33ett beg SSfteereg 
Slug bent ©djoof ber SieBe fdjretft- 

Unb fo flotjen bretjtg (Sonnen 
(S^nett, tm £tauB serfto^tner SBonnen 
2)em Beglittften tyaax ba§ut, 
SBte ber 23rautnadjt fitfje greuben, 
£)te bte ©otter fel&ft Beneiben, 
(gang jung unb enug grim. 
£)er tjat nte bag ©littf gefoftet, 
5)er bte $rud)t beg Jptmmelg ni$t 
#tauBenb an beg £c>llenfluffeg 
©cfyauerDottem #tanbe Bridjt. 

£efper unb Aurora gogen 
SQedjfelnb auf am ipimmelgBogen; 
T>Q&) bte ©liitflidjett, fte fatjn 
SKtdjt ben ©cfymutf ber S3 latter fatten, 
9ct$t aug 5^orbg Beetgten fallen 
£)en ergrintntten SBtnter nafyn. 
greubtg fafyen ffe beg £ageg 
3mmer turgern, f urgent ^retg; 
%vlx bag langere ©litcf ber Wdfytt 
SDanften fte Bettyort bent 3 e «^» 

Unb eg gletdjte fdjott bte 2Bage 
Sin bent JMntmel ^Jcadjt 1 unb £age, 
Unb bte t)otbe 3ungfrau ftanb 
£arrenb auf bent gelfenfcfyloffe, 



157 

In affection's arms repose ; 
Now in dreams drink in the pleasure, 
Heaven, in full, exhaustless measure, 

On true love alone bestows, 
Till Aurora wakes the lingerer 

From each gay and golden dream. 
And from love's soft pillow drives him 

To the cold bed of the stream. 

Thus, on wings of secret gladness, 
Clouded by no thought of sadness, 

Thirty suns rolled swiftly by, — 
One long marriage night, whose pleasures 
Poured in ever-deepening measures, 

G-ods might view with envious eye. 
He has ne'er true pleasure tasted, 

Who the fruit of Heaven's bliss 
Snatches not with trembling rapture 

From the brink of Hell's abyss. 

Blushing morn and pale-faced even 
Climbed by turns the arch of Heaven, 

Yet the happy, thoughtless pair 
Marked not summer's fading glory, 
Saw not winter, grim and hoary, 

From the naked forests stare. 
Glad were they when days, still dwindling, 

Shed a faint and fainter light ; 
Blind with love, they thanked th' Immortals 

For the longer joy of night. 



Night and day held balance even, 

And at eve the maiden stood 
On the rocky castle, gazing 
27 



158 

(Sat) tnnaB Me (gonnenroffe 
$ttet)en an beg £unmel$ Eanb* 
Unb ba<3 SUieer lag frilt nnb et>en, 
©inem reinen Spiegel gteidj, 
Seines SBtnbeS teifeg SSeBen 
3tegte bas frpftattne ^Retd) 

£nftige 2Mpt)inenfdjaarett 
©djer^ten itt bent fUberftaren, 
Smitten (Stement nmt)er, 
Unb in fdjtrargttdj grauen 3 u $ en > 
2lu3 bem 9fteergrnnb anfgefttegen, 
^am ber STet^d bunted £eer* 
©ie, bie (Sinjigen, Be^engten 
©en fcerjiotjtnen £te£e3tmnb; 
2lber it)nen fdjlof auf ettig 
Relate ben jhmtmen 9)cnnb* 

Unb (te frente ftd) be3 [crimen 
5)?ecre3, nnb tnit ©d)meid)ettonen 
©pradj (tc gn bem ©lement: 
„©d)oner ©ott, bu fotfteji tritgen? 
Sftein, ben greater f il ' a P f$ £iigen, 
£>er bid) fatfd) nnb trentos nennt 
galfd) ift ba* <35efd)ted)t ber 9ftenfd)en, 
©ranfam ift beS Setters ^erj; 
2tber bn Mft ntttb nnb giittg, 
Unb bid) ritt)rt ber Siefce ©comers*" 

„3n ben oben getfenmattem 
Sftitji' id) frenbtoS etnfam tranem 
Unb Serbian in e»'gem £arm; 
2)od) bn tragft anf betnem Siudm, 
£Df)ne 9tad)en, ot)ne SSriicfen, 
9Jitr ben grennb in meinen 5trnn 



158 

Where the steeds of Phoebus, blazing, 
Hastened to the western flood. 

And the sea lay still and even, 
Like a mirror pure and fair ; 

Not a zephyr's gentlest breathing 
Stirred the crystal realm of air. 

Merry shoals of shining dolphins 
On the calm and silvery waters 

Tossed and gamboled far and wide ; 
And in gloomy, gray procession 
All the motley train of Thetis 

Rose above the silent tide. 
Many a sweet and secret token 

These might nightly have revealed, 
But their speechless lips forever 

Gloomy Hecate had sealed. 

Hero gazed with fond emotion 
On the smooth and tranquil ocean, 

Then, in flattering accents said : 
" Beauteous G-od ! canst thou dissemble ? 
No ; who calls thee false and faithless, 

Curses light upon his head ; 
Man is false, and man is faithless ; 

Hearts of sires no prayer can move ; 
But thy bosom, soft and kindly, 

Well can feel the pangs of love. 

"Here in prison, lone and dreary, 
Worn with grief, with watching weary, 

I must pine and waste away ; 
Yet, to cheer my nightly pillow, 
Thou, on kindly, buoyant billow, 

Bring 'st the friend denied by day. 



159 

©raueni>otI tft beitte Jtefe, 
$urd)tbar beiner SSogen gjlttff, 
2loer bid) erfle^t bte Ciebe, 
£i$ fceamingt ber ipelbettmntV' 

„£)enn and) bid}, ben ©ott ber SBogen, 
SRitfyrte Srog macftfger 23ogen, 
2Hg beg golbnen SBibberg glttg 
Jpelle, mtt bem 23ruber flie^enb, 
Scfcon in 3ngenbfitlle Mitfyenb, 
UeSer behte Siefe trug, 
(Sdmetl, son t^rem Sftet$ Befteget, 
©riffft bu aug bem fmftern ScMuttb, 
3ogft fte son beg ©ibberg 9tuden 
Sftieber in ben Sfteereggrnnb," 

„(Sine ©ottin mtt bem ©otte, 
3tt ber tiefen SSajfergrctte, 
£eBt fie je£t nnfterblid) fort; 
ipilfreid) ber serfolgten £iebe, 
3a^mt fte betne ttilbett £riebe, 
gii^rt ben <S c6) t ff er in ben $ort* 
(Sd^one JpeUe, ftolbe ©otttn, 
(Selige, bid) flejj' ic§ an: 
Sring 1 aud) ^ente ben ©elieBten 
SJltr anf ber gerootjnten ©afjn!" 

Unb f$on bnnfelten bie glntf)en, 
Unb fte lie§ ber gadel ©httfjen 
23on bem fyofyn ©oiler ttefjn. 
£eitenb in ben oben ^fteicoen 
©elite ba^ sertrante 3 e ^ e ^ 
£)er geliebte SBanbrer fel)n» 
Unb eg )au)t nnb broljnt yon feme, 
ginjter Irdnfelt ftdj bag Sfteer, 



159 

Gloomy are thy vast abysses, 
Dark and stern thy waters roll ; 

Yet love's prayer can pierce thy bosom, 
Conquers thee the heroic soul. 

"For thou, too, O God of Ocean ! 
Thou hast felt the soft emotion, 

Felt Love's powerful, piercing flame, 
"When the youthful, blooming Helle, 
On the golden ram borne trembling, 

To thy waters wildly came. 
Soon the maiden's charms subdued thee ; 

Sudden from the rushing waves 
Eose thy mighty arm and bore her 

Down amid the ocean-caves. 

"There, in sunless water-grottoes, 
With the God she dwells in beauty, 

Dwells, a Goddess evermore. 
She will soothe thy wild commotion, 
Calm the stern, tempestuous ocean, 

"Waft the lover safe to shore. 
Lovely Helle ! Gracious Goddess ! 

Blessed one, to thee I pray ! 
"Waft to me this night my fond one 

Safely on his wonted way !" 

Darkly now the waves were flowing, 
And she bade the torch bright-glowing 

From the lofty Window gleam. 
The lone swimmer, faint and weary, 
Mid the waste of waters dreary 

Soon shall hail its guiding beam. 
"Wildly curl the blackening billows ; 

Every star is quenched on high, 



160 

Unb eg Tof$t bag Sidjt ber (Sterne, 
Unb eg nat)t genutterfdjtoer. 

Sluf bc^ $ontng rceite gla^e 
Segt fl$ Sta^t, nnb 2$etterBa#e 
©tiirgen ang ber SBolfen ©djoog; 
33Uj3e gntfen in ben Sitften, 
Unb au$ ifyren geffengriiftett 
$3erben atle ©titrme log, 
SBitfylen nnge^enre (Sdjliinbe 
3n ben toeiten SBafferfdjlnnb; 
©afynenb, tote ein ipotfenracfyen, 
Dejfnet fid) beg Sfteereg ®wnb* 

„5Be^e, toel) tnir!" mft bie 5lrmc 
3ammernb> „®roger 3 e «^r erBarmel 
%$, toag toagt' id) jn erfle^n! 
SSettn bie ©otter mid) ert)6ren, 
SBenn er ftc$> ben fallen 9fteeren 
§)reig gaB in beg ©tnrmeg 2Be|n! 
2ltte meergettjofnten 23ogel 
3tel)en $eim, in eil'ger gludjt; 
Sllle finrmerproBten ©d)iffe 
33ergen fid) in ftcfyrer 23ud)t" 

,,%$, getoig, ber Unoer^agte 
Unternafym bag oft ©etoagte, . 
£)enn ttjn trieB ein madjt'ger ®ott. 
(£r geloBte mir'g Beim @d)eiben 
Sftit ber £ieBe fyeit'gen Stben, 
S^n entBinbet nnr ber Sob,. 
%$, in biefem 5lngenBlide 
SRingt er mit beg <&tuxm?$ SQufy, 
Unb l)tnaB in tfyre ©d)limbe 
IJleigt il;n bie emporte Shttfy!" 



160 

And the moan of sullen breakers 
Hoarsely speaks the tempest nigh. 

"Wide o'er Pontus' plains extending 
Night now broods, and floods descending 

Burst from every angry cloud ; 
Forked lightnings rend the Heavens, 
And from out their rocky caverns 

All the storms howl wild and loud. 
Now the gloomy, giant billows 

To the skies in fury swell, 
And now yawn the deep abysses, 

Like the hungry jaws of Hell. 

" Woe is me ! great Jove, have mercy !" 
Cries the wild, affrighted maiden, 

" Ah ! send back that cruel prayer ! 
What if Heaven have heard and answered ! 
If in this tempestuous hour 

He the faithless flood should dare ! 
All the birds that haunt the ocean 

Homeward wing their trembling flight ; 
All the stout and storm-proof vessels 

Hie to port this dismal night. 

" Ah, too sure, that brave one, driven 
By the mightiest God of Heaven, 

Tempts the oft-tried journey now. 
Solemnly, when last we parted, 
Thus he pledged me — the true-hearted ;— 

Death alone can break that vow. 
Ah, this moment sees him wrestling 

Wildly there with storm and wave ; 
Now the black, ingulfing billows 

Drag him to a gloomy grave. 



161 

,$atfd)er tyontu$, beine ©title 
2Bar nur beg 33erratlje$ .Spittle, 
Stnem (Spiegel toarft bit gleid); 
Stiidftfdfy rnfyten beine SBogen, 
23ig bn itjn t)erang Betrogen 
3n belli fatfefyeg Sitgenreid)* 
Se^t, in beineg ©tromeg Sftttte, 
£a bte 9xitdfet>r ftdj &erf($to§, 
2a([eft bn auf ben 23errattjnen 
Side beine ©d)reden tog'." 

Unb e^ roac^ft beg ©tnrmeg £oBen, 
£ed), gn SSergen anfgef)oBen, 
©d)ttnltt bag SSJieer, tie 23ranbnng Bri$t 
©d^aumenb fid) am gufj ber .^(ippenj 
©elBft bag ©d)t(f mit Sidjenrippen 
*fta$te uttjerfdjmettert nidjt, 
Unb im SBinb erlifdjt bte ffadfel, 
£)ie beg $fabeg £eud)te tsar; 
©d)reden fctetet bag ©emaffer, 
©djreden audj bte Sanbnng bar* 

Unb fie fletjt ant 2lpt)robite, 
£)a§ fie bent Drfan gebiete, 
©anftige ber SMen 3 0rrt > 
Unb geloBt, ben ftrengen SBinbert 
£Reic£ye Dpfer angn^itnben, 
(Sinen ©tier mit golbnem £orn. 
2lUe ©otttnnen ber £iefe, 
2We ©otter in ber £ot)' 
gtetyt fte, linbernb Del gn gtegen 
3n bte fturmbemegte ©ee* 

„£6re meinen 9tnf erfdjatten, 
©teig 1 ang beinen griinen fatten, 

€4iHer* ffimmtl. SOerfe. L 11 



161 

" Thou false Pontus, thy soft billow, 
Tranquil as an infant's pillow, 

Veiled a traitor's gloomy breast ; 
Like a mirror sparkling, smiling, 
There it seemed to sleep, beguiling 

That fond bosom's fears to rest. 
Now in mid-stream wildly struggling, 

Closed behind him every path, 
On thy victim's head thou pourest 

All the vials of thy wrath !" 

And the tempest's wild lash urges 
Mountain-high the thundering surges 

Up the cliff and o'er the rock ; 
Sullen moan the whitening breakers ; 
E'en the oak-ribbed vessel staggers, 

Nor unshattered 'scapes the shock. 
Flickering in the wind that moment, 

Dies the torch's beacon-light ; 
And the billows and the landing 

With wild horrors mock the sight. 

Now she prays to Aphrodite, 

"With soft sway to soothe the mighty 

Tumult of the waves to peace ; 
To the winds she vows rich victims, 
Vows a golden-horned bullock, 

And a ram with silver fleece. 
Every God in Heaven she summons, 

Every Goddess of the deep, 
To pour out assuaging oil, 

Lull the storm-tossed sea to sleep. 

" Listen to my fearful call, 
Listen from thy sea-green hall, 



162 

©ettge Sen! o tl)ca! 
£)ie ber ©differ in bem oben 
SMenretcl), in ©turmeSnotCjen 
Sftettenb oft erfdjeinen fa§. 
SfteicV tt)m beinen ijeil'gen ©deleter, 
2)er, gefyeimnifyoli getoebt, 
£)te ifyn tragen, um>ertej3lidj 
2Tu$ bem ®rafc ber gluten IjeoH" 

Unb bie Gilbert SBinbe fdjweigen, 
£efl an iMmmels #tanbe fteigen 
@og' $ferbe in bie £o§\ 
grieb(td) in bem alien 23etre 
gitej^t bag 9fteer in ©ptegelglatte, 
Jpeiter lacfyeln Suft unb @ee. 
©anfter Bremen fid) bie SMen 
$n be3 Uferg gelfenwanb, 
Unb fie fcfymemmen, rufytg fjnelenb, 
(Sinen Seicfynam an ben ©tranb* 

3ct, er ift'3, ber aufy entfeelet 
©einem l)eiPgen ©cfytxmr nid)t feljtet! 
©Snellen $$lid$ erfennt fie tyn. 
Petite ^lage laft fie flatten, 
^eine £f)rane fiel)t man fallen, 
jtalt, ser^meifeinb ftarrt fie §itu 
SroftloS in bie obe Xiefc 
SBIidt fie, in beS 2*etf)erS £id)r, 
Unb ein ebleS $euer rotf)et 
3Da3 erbleidjte 2lngeftdjh 

,,3$ erfenn 1 tu<$, ernfte 29?adjte! 
(gtrenge tretfct tyv eure Steele, 
gnrdjtbar, tmerMttltdj tin. 
grittj fdjon ift mein Sauf ^efc^Toffenj 



162 

Blest Leucothea ! hear and rise 
Thou, who, in the wild and weary 
Realm of waters, oft appearest 

To the seaman's hopeless eyes ; 
Fling thy holy veil around him, 

Woven all mysteriously ; 
Bear him upward, waft him onward 

O'er the wild entombing sea !" 

And the wild winds cease their blowing, 
And the steeds of Morn, bright-glowing, 

Climb their Eastern path on high. 
Peaceful on his bed old Ocean 
Flows along with shining motion, 

Smiling to the smiling sky. 
And the waves with gentlest whisper 

Greet the rock and kiss the strand ; 
And at length a corpse comes floating 

In their light wake up the sand. 

Ay, 'tis he — one glance reveals him — 
He, who e'en in death is faithful ! 

Faithful to his solemn vow ! 
Not a groan — no sigh she utters — 
Not a tear her pale cheek moistens — 

Marble-cold she stands there now. 
O'er the dreary deep she gazes, 

Looks despairing to the sky, 
And a kindling fire illumines 

Her pale cheek and fading eye. 

" Yes, stern spirits, I adore you ! 
With calm heart I bow before you, 
Stern, remorseless though ye be. 
My short course is early ended ; 



163 

£>odj bas ©Hid §aV \§ genojfett, 
Unb bag fc^onfte Soog mar mein* 
£ebenb f)aV id) betnem £empel 
§0U^ getoet^t aU $>riejieriit ; 
2)ir ein freubig Dpfer ftero' idj, 
23enug, grope Jlonigin!" 

Unb tnit fliegenbem ©etoanbe 
©cfyroingt fie son beg £t)urmeg Sftanbe 
3tt bie SD^ccrfTut^ fify fyinao* 
£od) in feinen glutfyenreicfyen 
SBat^t ber ©ott bie f)eir$en Seicfyett 
Unb er feloer ift ifyr ©raK 
Unb mit feinem Stano ^ufrieben, 
3ie^t er freubtg fort unb giej^t 
Slug ber utter fcfyopf ten Urne 
©einen @trom, ber eroig fliejt* 



gtaffanbxa. 

$reube roar in Xrojag fatten, 
(£§ bie f)ofye gefie ftel; 
3ube(^mnen fyort man flatten 
3n ber ©aiten golbneg ©pielj 
Side ipanbe rufyen rnube 
S5on bent ttjranenootlen @treit, 
SBeil ber fyerrttcfye ^>elibc- 
$riamg fd)one Jotter frett 

Unb gefdjmucft tnit £oroeerreiferu, 
geftlidj mallet ©cfyaar auf @$aar 
Waty ber ©otter Jjetrgeu £aufern, 
3u beg S^mbrierS Wltax. 



163 

Yet has joy my path attended ; 

Fairest lot was given to me. 
All my life long in thy temple 

A pure priestess I have been ; 
Now I die, a cheerful victim, 

On thy altar, mighty Queen !" 

In the breeze her loose robes nutter — 
Prom the battlement she plunges 

Down into the sounding wave. 
And the God of ocean proudly 
Bears on high the holy corpses, 

And himself prepares their grave. 
Then triumphantly the billows 

"With their proud prey onward sweep, 
Prom the never-failing fountains 

Of the unfathomable deep. 

Charles T. Brooks* 



CASSANDRA. 

Joy in Troja's courts abounded 

Ere the lofty ramparts fell ; 
Hymns of jubilee resounded 

Prom the golden-chorded shell. 
Now from fields of strife and slaughter 

Rests at peace each valiant head, 
While to Priam's fairest daughter 

Peleus' godlike son must wed. 

There, bedecked with boughs of laurel, 
Where the columned fanes extend, 

Troop on troop, in bright apparel, 
To the Thymbrian's altar bend. 



164 

£)nmpf erBranfenb burd) bte ©aj£» 
SGalgt ftdj bte Baccbanffdje Sufi, 
Unb in i()rent ©cfymerg serlaffen 
2Bar nnr eine tranr'ge 23rnft, 

grenblog in ber grenben glide, 
UngefeUig unb allein, 
SSanbette ^affanbra (Me 
3tt 2lpoftog SorBeer^atn. 
3tt beg SBalbeg tieffte ®ntnbe 
glttdjtete bte <Set)erin, 
Unb fte marf bte sprtejterBinbe 
3n ber (£rbe gnrnenb §in; 

„2ltfeg ift ber grenbe offen, 
Side £erjen ftnb Beglttcft, 
Unb bie atten Sltern f)offen, 
Unb bte @d)ti>efter ftef>t gefdjmttdk 
3$ aftein nut)} einfant tranern, 
2>nn mid) fliefyt^er fitpe SBa^n, 
Unb geflitgelt biefen SJtanern 
©e^ 1 tcfy bag 2>erberBen nafyn." 

„(£ine %aM felj idj gltt^en, 
2X6er nid)t in £9tneng £anb; 
«Jla^ ben 2Golfen fe^' tdj'g gte^en, 
SIBer nidjt n?ie DpferBranb* 
gefte fe^' ic^ frof) Bereiten, 
!Dodj im a^nunggsollen ©eift 
£or' id)-f$on beg ©otreg ©djreiten, 
SDer fte iammersotf gerreif3t" 

„Unb fte fd)elten metne ^lagen, 
Unb fte f)o|nen meinen @ camera* 
©infant in bie $3u[te tragen 



164 

Through the streets the Bacchic madness 
Rushing conies with hollow swell, 

And on thoughts of silent sadness 
One alone is left to dwell. 



Joyless most where joy exceeded, 

Did Cassandra's footsteps rove, 
Lonely, desolate, unheeded, 

Through Apollo's laurel grove. 
Mid the forest depths slow winding 

"Wandered the prophetic maid, 
And, her sacred locks unbinding, 

Flung to earth the mystic braid. 

" Joy forgotten — bliss forsaken — 

Each exulting bosom shares ; 
And the sires new hopes awaken, 

And glad pomp the sister wears. 
I alone must inly sorrow, 

Whom the sweet illusions fly, 
Who behold the fatal morrow, 

Winged with ruin, hover nigh. 

"Lo, a torch ! I see it flaring — 

Not, alas ! in Hymen's hand — 
In the clouds behold it glaring — 

But 'tis not an altar-brand. 
Lo ! the festal board they're spreading; 

But my full foreboding mind 
Marks the fateful footsteps treading 

Of the gloomy god behind. 

"And they call my moaning madness — 
Andjthey mock my bosom's smart : 
Lonely then, in silent sadness, 



165 

9ftu§ tdj mein gecfudlte^ iper^, 
Son ben ©IMidjen gemieben 
Unb ben groljlicfyen ein ©pott I 
©d)tt>ereg fyaft bu tnir befd)ieben, 
spptfyifdjer, bu arger ©ott!" 

,/£)ein Drafel §u serfitnben, 
SSarum marfeft ^n midgut 
3u bie ©tabt ber eroig SSHnben 
Sftit bem aufgefdjloffnen ©inn? 
SGarum gabft "Dn mir ju fef)en, 
$&a$ id) bod) nidjt toenben fann? 
©a^ Serfyctngte mu§ gefd)e{)en, 
S)a^ ©efurd>tete mu$ nafyn," 

„$rommf g, ben ©djleier aufeu^eben, 
$3o ba^ nafye ©djredntf brofyt? 
9?ur ber 3trt{)um ift bag Seben, 
Unb ba^ Stiffen ift ber £ob. 
9limm, o tttmm bie tranr'ge ^larfjeit, 
SJRix $om %uq bert blufgen ©d)etnl 
©d)red(td) ift eg, beiner SBafyrfyett 
©terblicfyeg ®efajj gu fein*" 

„9)?etne Slinb^ett gib mir ttieber 
Unb ben frofylid) bunfeln ©inn! 
dimmer fang id) freub'ge £ieber, 
©eit td) beine ©timme bin* 
3u!nnft fyaft bn mir gegeben, 
T)o§ bn nal)mft ben SfugenbHd 5 , 
9M)mft ber ©tnnbe froljtid) Men — 
Sfttmm 'odn falfd) QDefdjenf ^urnd I" 

„9ftmmer mit bent ©d)mud ber SSvaute 
$ran$f tdj mir bag buff ge £aar, 



165 

Let me wear my burthened heart.' 
By the happy shunned, discarded, 

Scorn of pleasure's frolic ring, 
Heavy falls thy lot awarded, 

Pythian god ! — remorseless king ! 

" Wherefore hath thy fatal kindness 
My awakened sense decreed, 
In this land of utter blindness 
Thy dark oracles to read ? 
. Visual sense too perfect lending, 

Why withhold the warding power ? 
It must fall — the doom impending — 
Must draw on — the dreaded hour. 

"Wherefore lift the veil, where terror 

Darkly hovering threats our breath ? 
Life itself is nought but error, 

And to know — alas ! is death. 
Hide, oh hide fate's dreary portal I 

Make mine eyes from blood-stain free ! 
'Tis a fearful thing, the mortal 

Yessel of thy truth to be. 

"My blest ignorance restore me, 

And the joys that once were mine I 

Ne'er came strains of gladness o'er me 
Since my voice hath echoed thine. 

Thou, the thankless future giving, 
Didst the present render vain ; 

Vain the hope, the bliss of living- 
Take thy false gift back again I 

"With the bridal chaplet never 

Might my perfumed locks be crowned, 
28 



166 

(Sett tdj betnent £>tenfl nttdj metric 
2m bent traurigen 2Htar* 
Sterne 3ugenb mar nur SGeinen, 
Unb id) fannte nur ben ©d)merg, 
3ebe fyerfte 5^ot^ ber Piemen 
©cfylug an ntein empftnbenb §tx%J* 

„$r6t)Iidj fefj' icJ) bte ©efpielen, 
2I(Ieg urn midj leBt unb Itebt 
3n ber 3ugenb £uftgefitfjten, 
W.\x nur ift bag i?er$ getrit&t 
3)?ir erfdjetnt ber £en^ oergeBeng, 
2>r bte Srbe feftltd) fcfymiicft; 
2Ber erfreute fid) be3 Se&en^, 
2>r in feine Siefen Mitft!" 

„<SeIig preif tdj spofyrenen 
3n beg Jpergeng trunfnem SBafjn, 
£)enn ben 23eften ber Qttltnm 
£?fft fie brautltd) gu umfaljn, 
(Stolj tfi i^re S3ruft ge^oben, 
3§re SBonne fa§t fie fautn, 
%li$t euc^, £tmntUfd)e bort often, 
Sftetbet fie in tt)rem £raunu" 

„Unb aud) id) fjah 1 tyn gefeljen, 
©en bag iperj serlangenb n>afylt! 
(Seine fd)onen 23Hde flefjen, 
S5on ber Siebe ©lutl) befeelt 
©erne mod): 1 id) rait bent ©atten 
3n bte fyeint'fdje SBofjnung gielm; 
SDodj eg tvitt em ftyg'fd^r ©fatten 
^a^tltc^ 3tt>ifdjen m\§ unb fynJ* 



166 

Since thy servant I, for ever, 
At the altar's foot was bound. 

All youth's spring-tide sorrow-shaken, 
Life consumed in ceaseless smart, 

Each rude shock by Troy partaken 
Smote on my presaging heart. 



" Treading light youth's sportive measures, 

Others wake to life and love — 
All who shared my childhood's pleasures. 

I — can only anguish prove ! 
Spring, that clothes the earth in glory, 

Brings no rapture to my mind. 
"Who that reads life's coming story 

Aught of bliss in life can find ? 

" Polyxene ! for blest I hold thee, 

Who, in bright illusions dressed, 
Think'st this night he shall enfold thee — 

He — of Greeks the first and best. 
See — with pride her bosom swelling — 

Transports she can scarce contain — 
Heavenly powers ! yourselves excelling 

In the dream that fires her brain. 



" I too saw him, whom my beating 

Heart its bosom-lord proclaimed — 
Saw his beauteous face entreating, 

"With the glow of love enflamed. 
Then, methought, with him how brightly 

Might my days domestic shine ! 
But a Stygian vision nightly 

Stepped betwixt his arms and mine. 



167 

„3$re Hetd)en Saroen affe 
(Senbet mix ^rofcrptna ; 
2Bo idj ioanbre, too idj toatfe, 
(Steven mir bie ©etfter be. 
Sit ber 3ngenb freije ©ptele 
£>rctngen jte ftdj graufenb ein, 
(Sin etttfe$Iidje$ ®etotit)lel 
dimmer farm tdj frol)tid) fein." 

„Unb ben SSttorbjraljt feV id) Minfen 
Unb ba3 9ttorberauge gHt^n; 
Sfttcfyt $nr 9fted)ten, nid)t gur Stnfett 
$ann idj oor bent (2d)redni$ flte^n; 
9Ucbt bte SBftde barf tdj toenben, 
SBiffenb, fd)auenb, unoertoanbt 
SThtjj idj tnetn ®efd)td ootlenben 
gallettb in bem fremben £anb." — 

Unb nodj fatten t^re SBorte — 
£ordj ! ba bringt oertoorrner Zon 
^ernljer au$ beS SempelS $ forte, 
£obt lag XJjeti* grower ©o$n! " 
Srt3 fdmttett tijre ©djlangen, 
3Itte ©otter fliefyn baoon, 
Unb be-? 2>onner3 2£otfen ^angen 
©d)ioer Ijerao auf 3^on. 



pie 'gMtrfllifafr 

(Pamon unb })l)tntta0.) 

3u £>ion$3, bent S^rcmnett, f$fi<$ 
Canton, ben 2)old) im ©emanbe; 
„3t)n fcfylugen bte £afd)er in 23anbe* 



167 

"All her pallid spectres yonder 

From the queen of night repair : 
Wheresoe'er I walk or wander — 

Grisly shapes ! — I see them there. 
Ev'n while frolic youth ran bounding, 

Thronging still they on me pressed, 
Ghastly crowds my path surrounding. — 

No ! I never can be blest. 

" Murder's steel — I see it glancing ; 

Murder's eye — I see it glare. 
Right or left my sight advancing, 

Horror meets me everywhere. 
Though I fain would 'scape, unwilling — 

Knowing — shuddering — fixed I stand, 
And, my destiny fulfilling, 

Perish in the stranger land." 

Scarce the voice prophetic ended, 

Hark ! wild clamors rolling spread — 
At the temple gate extended, 

Thetis' mighty son lies dead. 
Discord rears her snaky tresses ; 

All the gods afar have flown ; 
And the thunder-cloud thick presses 

Heavily o'er Ilion. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



THE HOSTAGE. 

(Damon and Phintias.) 

To the Tyrant of Sicily stealing 
Came Moeros, the knife in his garment concealing. 
The guards have encompassed him round — 



168 

„2Ba3 tootftefi bn mit bem DoTdje, fpric^ !" 
©ntgegnet i§m ftnfter ber 3Mt§erid&. — 
„£)ie ©tabt *>om Sprannen Befreten!" — 
„T)a$ fottfl: bn am ^renje krenen*" 

„3$ Mit," fpric^t jener, „$u fierfcen fcereit 
Unb Mtte nicfytnm mein 2-efcett; 
£)odj nuttft bn ©nabe mir geben, 
3$ flefye bid) urn bret &age 3?it, 
*Bi6 tdj bie (Sdjtoejfcr bent ©atten gefreit j 
3$ laffe ben 5reuttb bir ate 33iirgen, 
3(?n magft bn, entrinn' ic§, ernmrgen." 

Da ladjelt ber ,ftonig nttt arger Stfi 
Unb fprtdjt nacfy fnrgem 23ebenfen: 
„£>rei £age will id) bir fdjenfen; 
£)od) ttrijfe, wenn fie serjiridjen, bie grijl, 
(Etj bn priid mir gegeBen Mft, 
©o muf er jtatt beiner erblaffen, 
SDo$ bir ift bie ©trafe erlaffen," 

Unb er fommt %um ^rennbe: „1)er $6mg gefceut, 

2)a§ idj am $ren$ mit bem £eften 

23e3af)le bag freselnbe ©trefcen; 

£)od) Witt er mir gonnen brei £age 3ett, 

23t3 id) bie (5d)mefter bem ©atten gefreit; 

(Bo bleift bn bem $6nig ^nm $fanbe, 

23i3 id) fomme, jn Iofett bie 23anbe»" 

Unb fdjtoeigenb nmarmt t§n ber trene ^rennb 

Unb liefert ftd) an3 bem Ssprannenj 

£)er anbere jtefyet son bannen* 

Unb el;e bag britte SJKorgenrottj fd)etnt, 

£at er fdjnett mit bem ©atten bie ©djtvejter ijeremt, 



168 

"What wouldst tliou, declare, with the weapon 
they've found ?" 
Sternly asked of his captive the Despot unfeeling — 
u Our state from its Tyrant to free !" 
" This, Slave, may'st thou rue when thou'rt nailed 
to a tree." 

"I am ready prepared," quoth the other, "to die — 

My life — I'd not pray thee to spare it. 

But one boon — I am fain to declare it — 
Would I beg — but three days — ask you why ? 
My sister in Hymen's soft bondage to tie. 

My friend as a Hostage I'll leave thee, 

Let him bleed if I try to deceive thee." 

The monarch, he smiled with malice deep, 

And spoke after short thought given. 

" Three days will I grant thee to live in. 
But mark ! if thou fail thy promise to keep, 
On the day I have destined my vengeance to reap, 

He shall die for the act committed, 

Though thyself be from sentence quitted." 

Then he went to his friend — The king wills that I, 
"With my life on the cross, once for ever, 
Shall pay for my wicked endeavor. 
Yet he will not three days to my suit deny, 
That my sister in Hymen's soft bonds I may tie, 
So in pledge may the Tyrant retain thee, 
Till I come back again to unchain thee." 

With a hearty embrace was the friend's troth plighted, 

And he gave himself up to the King. 

The other was soon on the wing ; 
And, ere the third day-star was lighted, 
His Sister had been to the bridegroom united ; 



169 

(Silt fjeim ntit forgenber (Seele, 
Damit er bte grijt nidjt serfe^Ie* 

Da gteft unenbtidjer S^eaen $era&, 

Son ben Sergen ftur^en bie Quetlen, 

Unb bie 23ad)e, bie @trome fd)meEen, 

Uttb er fommt an$ Ufer ntit manbernbem <&tab, 

Da retget bie SBriide ber (Strnbel f)in ab, 

Unb bonnernb fprengen bie SBogen 

De3 ©etoolbeS !rad)enben 23ogen, 

Unb troftloS irrt er an Ufer3 3^anb; 

2Bie »eit er au$ fpd^et nnb blidet 

Unb bie ©ttntme, bie rufenbe, fdjidfet, 

©a jlb'get fein 9?ad)en sont ftdjern ©tranb, 

Der i^n fe£e an ba3 gettmnfcfyte Sanb, 

$ein ©djijfer lenfet bie gafyre, 

Unb ber toiibe ©trom toirb gum Sfteere, 

2) a ftnft er an$ Ufer unb toemt unb fle^t, 

Die £anbe gum 3eu$ erfyoben: 

„D Jjemme bes (StromeS Xoben! 

®3 eilen bie ©tunben, im Sfttttag ftefjt 

Die ©onne, unb toenn fie niebergefyt, 

Unb idj faun bie ©tabt nid>t erreid)en, 

©o mujjj ber B^eunb ntir erbleicfyen." 

Do$ n>a$fenb erneut ftdj be3 ©tromeS $Buty,' 

Unb SBelle ctuf 2BeHe gerrtnnet, 

Unb @tunbe an ©tunbe entrinnet 

Da tretbet bie Slngft tyn, ba fagt er ft<$ 9flut$ 

Unb nnrft fidj Ijittftn in bie branfenbe glutj 

Unb ttyetft ntit gemaltigen Sfrmen 

Den ©trom, unb ein ©ott tyat Srfcarmeiw 



169 

Then homeward, with faithful endeavor, 
He posted, his friend to deliver. 

Now torrents of rain fast descending down pour, 
The cataracts leap from the mountain, 
High swells every river and fountain ; 

"With his traveler's staff he arrives at the shore — 

The bridge bursts away with a loud crashing roar ; 
The arch— it is broken asunder — 

And the billows reply with their voices of thunder. 

All comfortless roams he along the strand, 

Far and wide around him spying — 

No voice to his shouts replying — 
No bark to receive him — no boatmen at hand 
To ferry him o'er to the wished-for land ; 

While the tempest in fearful commotion 

Swells the brook to a mighty Ocean. 

Then he sinks on the bank with a piteous cry, 

His hands to Jove extending — 

"Oh let the wild storm have ending ! 
>Tis already mid-day ; the swift hours, how they fly ! 
If the sun goes down in the evening sky 

Before I redeem the stake, 

My friend — he must bleed for my sake !" 

But each moment increases the storm's wild mood — 

And billow on billow is riding, 

And hour after hour fast gliding. 
With anguish he foams — fury scorching his blood. 
Then plunges he into the rude roaring flood, 

And cleaves the big surges before him 

With strong arm — and a God watches o'er him. 



170 

Unb gennnnet bag Ufer unb cttet fort 

Unb banfet bem rettenben ®otte; 

£a jtiirjet bie raubenbe Sftette 

Jperoor aug beg SBalbeg nad)tlid)em Drt, 

3Den $>fab tjm fperrenb, unb fcfynaubet 9ft orb 

Unb fjemmet beg 2$anbererg (Site 

Sftit bro^enb gefdjmungener $eute» 

„2Bag toottt i$r?" ruft er, oor (Sdjretfen BIei<$, 

„3dj ^be nicfytg, atg mein £eben, 

S)ag mu$ tdj bem ^ontge gebenl" 

Unb entreifjt bie ^eule bem ^adjfien gtetdj; 

„Um beg greunbeg SMen crib ar met eud)l" 

Unb brei, mtt gercalttgen ©treidjen, 

(Srlegt er, bic anbern enttoeidjen* 

Unb bie (Sonne oerfenbet glit^enben 93ranb, 

Unb oon ber unenbltdjen s Mf)e 

(Srmattet, fhtfen bie ^niee* 

„D %Q$ bu mtdj gnabig au$ SRaubergtjanb, 

5lug bem (Strom mid) gerettet an$ $eiltge £anb, 

Unb foil fyier serfdom a d)tenb oerberben, 

Unb ber ^reunb mir, ber liebenbc, fterben!" 

Unb :(jordj ! ba fpmbelt eg ftlberbetf, 

©anj na$e, nue rtefetnbeg S^aufdjen, 

Unb (title t)att er, gu laufdjett, 

Unb ftet), au$ bem ^etfen, gefcbtt>a£ig, fdmetf, 

(Springt murmelnb beroor ein tebenbiger Quell, 

Unb freubig bitdt er ftdj nteber 

Unb erfrifdjet bk brennenben ©tieber* 

Unb bie (Sonne bttdt burcb ber 3^eige ©rim 
Unb malt auf ben glan^enben fatten 
SDer SSaume gigantif^e <Sd)attenj 



170 

The bank he has reached — he has leaped ashore, 
Thanking Jove for his safety, when rushes 
From the forest's thick sheltering bushes 
A fierce robber-band, breathing slaughter and gore, 
Who beleaguer his footsteps behind and before, 
And with clubs swinging round them like giants, 
Check his speed with a sudden defiance. 

"What would ye ?" he cries, all pale with affright, 

" I have nothing but life to bestow, 

And that to the Tyrant I owe." 
Then a club from the nearest, with terrible might, 
He wrested, and cried, "2sTow G-od prosper the right !" 

On the ground three at once lie extended — 

The rest shun the fate that impended. 

Then Phcebus emitted a fierce burning brand, 
And o'erspent with his labors unending — 
He exclaimed, with his knees feebly bending — 
" O thou, who hast led me with merciful hand, 
Thro' flood, and thro' sword, to the safety land, 
Must I here faint and die — and so perish 
For me, the dear friend I most cherish ?" 

And hark ! how it sprinkles, silver-clear, 

Like showers, in the sun that glisten ! 

And, silent, he stops to listen — 
When lo ! from the rocks descending near, 
A murmuring fountain giads his ear ; 

And, beneath its archway stooping, 

He revives his spirits drooping. 

Now peeps thro' the branches the sun's slope ray, 
And paints' on the glossy meadows 
The forest's giant shadows. 



171 

Unb srnet SBanberer fte^t er bie (Strafje gie^n, 
SSttf eilenben SanfcS ttoru&er flie^n, 
2)a prt er tie 2Borre fte fagen: 
„3e£t ttirb er an$ $reuj gefdjlagen/' 

Unb fete 2lngjr Bcflitgelt ben eilenben 5u& 

3^rt jagen ber (Sorge Qnalen, 

2) a fdjimmern in 2tbenbrotf)3 ©traljlen 

23on feme bie 3ttttten son (SprafuS, 

Unb entgegen fommt ifjm sp[)Uoftratn$, 

2)e3 #aufe3 rebticfyer Jpitrer, 

2>er erfennt mtfefjt ben ©eoieter: 

„3urit(I! bu rertejr ben grennb nidjt mefjr, 

@o rette ba3 eigne Men! 

£)en Xob erleibet er efceru 

SSon (Stnnbe ^n ©tnnbe geroarref er 

SDZit ^ojfenber (Seele ber SBieberfe^r, 

3fym lonnte ben mnt^igen ®lanben 

£)er £of)tt beS S^rannen nic^t ranoen/' — 

„Unb i(i e$ jn fpat, nnb fann idj t§m nid)t, 

Sin better, nullfommen erfcfyeinen, 

@o foil midj ber Job i§m seretnen* 

£)efj ritfyme ber Blnt'ge S^ramt (Id) ni$t, 

£>a$ ber grennb bem ^rennbe gefcrocfyen bte $fltdjt; 

(£r fcfyiadjte ber Opfer gtr-eie, 

Unb gtauoe an Siebe nnb Srene!" 

Unb bte ©onne ge^t nnter, ba ftetjt er am Z^ox 

Unb ftefyt ba3 $reu,3.fcfyon ertyoijet, 

£)a3 bte 9Jienge gajfenb nmftefyer; 

5(n bem ©rile fd)on jiefyt man ben ^rcnnb emttor, 

£)a aertrennt er getr-altig ben btdjten ££;or: 



171 

He sees two travelers on their way, 
Whom he fain would pass — too hasty to stay — 
When these terrible words assailed him — 
" Ere now to the cross they've nailed him." 

Then, winged by keen anguish, his feet skimmed the 
air ; 

Fierce heart-pangs chased and tore him : 

Till in Evening red, before him, 
The towers of Syracuse gleamed afar, 
And the steward who had of his household the care, 

Philostratus, came to meet him, 

And with hasty words entreat him. 

" Back ! back ! to rescue thy friend too late — 

Be now for thyself providing ! 

His fate he's this instant abiding — 
For hour after hour he fondly did wait 
Thy promised reprieve, nor one jot would abate 

His faith in thy good word plighted, 

Though the Tyrant with mockery slighted." 

" And is it too late ? Am I doomed to return, 

Untrue to the word I have spoken ? 

Yet in death may our bond be unbroken. 
And let not the Tyrant exult in his scorn, 
That Friend to Friend was ever forsworn. 

Let him slaughter his victims two, 

And believe in the Loving and True." 

And the sun goes down — he stands at the gate, 

And sees the Cross uplifted, 

And about it the multitude drifted. 
Already the rope twines its Victim around, 
When he bursts thro' the press with one terrible bound : 



172 

„9fti$, Renter!" ruft er, „ernmrget! 
ha Bin id), fur ten er geBiirget!"- 

Unb (Srjtaunen ergreift ba3 33olf umfjer, 

3n ben Written Itegen jtdj Beibe 

Unb tteinen fcor @djmer$ett unb ^reube* 

2) a ftetjt man fein 2htge tljranenteer, 

Unb $um $6nige Bringt man bie SBunberma^r 1 ; 

£)er fii^It ein menfd)tid)eS Sftitfjren, 

£af t fdjnetl »or ben Sfyron fie fix^ren, 

Unb Blicfet fie tange fcertuunbert an; 

£>rauf fprid)t er: „Ss ifl eud) gelungen, 

3§t IjaBt ba3 £er$ mir Be^rcungen; 

Unb bie Xreue, fte ift bod) lein leerer 2Ba$n$ 

©o ne^met aud) midj jum ©enojfen anl 

3d) fei, gemd^rt mir bie SSttte, 

3n eurem 23unbe ber £>ritte." 



„2Ber wagt e3, SfUtterSmantt ober jhtapp, 
3u tauten in biefen ©d)lunb? 
Sinen golbnen 2Sed)er tr-erf id) $tna&, 
2>erfd)lungen fd)on $at itjn ber ftfytoarje 9ftunb* 
SSer mir ben IBec^er !ann tirieber geigen, 
(£r mag itjn Befjatten, er ift fein eigen*" 

£>er ^onig fpridjt e3 nnb tr-irft son ber £o§' 
S)er $lippe, bie fdbroff nnb fteil 
£inau£ljangt in bie uttenblid)e See, 
£)en S5ed)er in ber (£f)art)Bbe ©e$eul«. 
„23er ift ber SSe^erjte, id) frage nueber, 
3u tauten in biefe £iefe nieber?" 



172 

"Not for Him was the Cross intended — 
Let me — let me be suspended." 

The Crowd stand transfixed in bewildered amaze, 
Bush the friends to each other's embraces — 
Joy and sorrow bedewing both faces. 

No eye without tears on their meeting could gaze. 

The strange tale to the King a By-stander conveys ; 
"When emotions unwonted came o'er him, 
And he ordered to bring them before him. 

He looked at them long with astonishment great. 
At last said, " Your cause has succeeded, 
My heart has the victory ceded ; 

And Truth, I confess, is no empty deceit. 

Yet grant one request — 'tis my turn to entreat — 
Let Me — here I offer my hand — 
Be the Third in your brotherhood's band." 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



THE DIYEK. 

" Ho, knights and esquires ! whom have ye so bold 
In yon whirlpool's wild eddies to leap ? 

See — I cast therein a goblet of gold — 

Already 'tis whelmed in the swarthy deep ; 

Now whoso will bring it again to me, 

Shall win it and keep it — a well-earned fee." — 

King Frederick looked round on his vassals true, 
Then turned to the cliff's o'erhanging side ; 

And full from the summit the goblet he threw 
Into Charybdis' howling tide. 

"Now where is the gallant — I rede you again, 

Will plunge for his guerdon in yonder main ?" 



173 

Unb bie Slitter, bie ^nappen urn tfjn fjer 

SBerne^men^ unb fd)tretgen (till, 

©e'fjett Ijinab in bas trilbe 9)?eer, 

Unb leiner bett 33ed)er getrinnen tritL 

Unb ber $imig ptm brittenmal trieber fraget: 

„3ft fewer, ber ftdj tyimmter traget?" 

3)o$ afteS no$ jtumm Bleiot trie wr-orj 

Unb ein ©belfne^t, fanft nnb ltd, 

Zxitt au$ ber .ftnappen jageitbem (Eftor, 

Unb ben ©iirtet roirft er, ben Mantel treg, 

Unb atte bie banner umtjer nnb grauen 

5tuf ben fyerrlidjen Singling rertrunbert fc^auem 

Unb trie er tritt an be£ getfen #ang 
Unb blidt in ben ©djhmb ^inaB, 
2)ie Staffer, bie fte fyinunter fcfylang, 
2)ie (Sfyar^obe jejjt fcritttenb triebergaS, 
Unb trie mit beS fernen £)onner$ ©etofe 
©ntftitr^en fte fd^aumenb bem ftnftern <S$ooffo. 

Unb eS traUet unb ftebet nnb Braufet unb $if$t, 
2Gie trenn S3affer ntit $euer ftdj mengt, 
23i3 wm £immel [privet ber bampfenbe ®tf$t, 
Unb ftlufy anf glutl) ftdj o!)n' @nbe brangt, 
Unb will fid) nintmer erfd)opfen nnb leeren, 
$IU trottte bag SReer nod) ein Wlttt geBaren* 

$)od) enblidj, ba legt ftd) bie trilbe ®etraft, 
Unb fdjroarj aus bem treifen ©c^aunt 
fflaffi t)htunter ein gafjnenber (Spatt, 
©runbloS, aU ging'S in ben Jpottenranm, 
Unb reigenb ftetjt man bie Branbenben SSogen 
Jpinao in ben ftrubelnben £ridjter ge^ogen* 



I 



173 

And knights and esquires — the bravest and best — 
Look fearfully down with dizzied eyes ; 

In silence they hearken their monarch's behest, 
But none dare plunge for the glittering prize. 

' ' Of the flower of mine island — the gallant and free, 

Is there none that will venture for honor and me ?" 

In the brilliant crowd it is silence all, 

Till forth from the trembling squires' array 

A page steps forward, slender and tall, 
And casts his mantle and bonnet away ; 

While knights and damsels of lofty degree 

On the gallant youth look wonderingly. 

Bravely he trode to the rock's dark brow, 

And his eye glanced steadily under ; 
And lo ! the grim whirlpool awakes below 

With the muttering voice of distant thunder. 
Then gush from their caverns with hideous uproar 
The waves its deep bosom had swallowed before. 

And the breakers they seethe and howl and hiss 

As when water meets with fire ; 
And, struggling forth from the black abyss, 

The spray towards Heaven mounts higher and 
higher ; 
And the vexed Sea travails in ceaseless commotion, 
As though its dark womb bore another ocean. 

At length the wild waters have ceased to swell ; 

And see I where yon black line cleaves the foam, 
The rift yawns asunder, deep as Hell ; 

And downward to their fathomless home 
The waves rush headlong, with whirl and with spin, 
By that gaping funnel sucked greedily in. 
29 



174 

3e£t fdjnefl, e$ bie Sranbung ttneberfeljrr, 

£>er Singling fitf) ©ott fceftetjlt, 

Unb — ein ©djrei bee" SntfejjenS ftnrb rings' ge^ort, 

Unb fdjon Jjat if)n ber SKMrbel ^inmeggefpiitt, 

Unb ge^eimnt^oH tiber bent tutjnen ©d)nnntmer 

(Sdjltejjjt ji<$ ber Sftacfyen; er geigt ftcfy nimmer* 

Unb (title tmrb'g tiber bem SBafjerfdjfunb, 

3n ber Xiefe nnr braufet eg fjoJjl', 

Unbbebenb ^ort man son 9#unb £U $hmb: 

„i?od^er3iger Sitngting, faljre tool)!!" 

Unb Jjo^Ier nnb fyofyier tyort man's fteuten, 

Unb e3 §arrt nod) ntit bangem, nut fd)recfltdjem SBeiten. 

Unb toarfft bn bie $rone fetber ^tnetn 
Unb fpradjfh toer mir brtngt bie $ron', 
(5r foil fte tragen nnb $onig fein ! 
Sftidj gelitftete ni$t nad) bent tbeuren Sotjn, 
2Ba3 bie ^enlenbe SLtefe ba nnten oerf)eI)te, 
£)a3 ergai;lt feine lebenbe, glttcflidje <Seele* 

SDotyl manges $afjr$eug, oom ©trnbel gefafr, 
<3<$ofj gafy in bie Stefe fyinab: 
£)odj gerfdjmettert nnr rangen ftd) $iet nnb SJlajl 
iperoor au$ bem attes oerfcfyltngenben ©rab* — 
Unb feller nnb feller, nne ©turmeS ©aufen, 
£ort ntan'^ n&fyer unb imnter nafyer braufen* 

Unb e$ wallet nnb ftebet nnb branfet nnb gifdjt, 
2Bie toenn 2Bajfer mit geuer ft<$ mengt, 
33t3 gum Jpimmet [privet ber bampfenbe ©ifdjt, 
Unb 2BeU" anf SBetP jtc^ o$n' (£nbe brangt, 
Unb rote mit bey fernen £onner3 ©etofe 
(Sntftitrjt e3 britUenb bem ftnftem ©djoofje. 



1/4 

Now, now — ere the ebb is past and spent — 

His perilous task must begin ; 
Each eye, for a moment, is downward bent, 

And each breath drawn shuddering in ; 
He springs ! the dark billows close awfully o'er ; 
And the gallant swimmer is seen no more. 

Now 'tis silence again on the whirlpool's brow, 
Whilst it roars beneath with a sullen swell ; 

And it runs thro' the circle in murmurs low — 
Brave youth, gallant-hearted, fare thee well ! 

And hoarser and hoarser is heard the dull roar, 

"While speechless they listen, and gaze from the shore. 

And hadst thou cast in thy royal crown, 
And sworn by the saints and the Holy Tree, 

a Who wins it shall wear it, my realm is his own " — 
That diadem's round were no guerdon for me. 

No tongue that hath life may the secrets deliver 

Which the pit of Charybdis encloses forever. 

Into the depth of that merciless wave 
Full many a gallant vessel hath past — 

And nought rose again from the reeking grave 
Save a shattered keel and a broken mast. 

But hark ! the flood rises, and near and more near, 

The voice of its thunder beats loud on the ear. 

And the breakers they seethe and howl and hiss, 

As when water meets with fire ; 
And, struggling forth from the black abyss, 

The spray towards Heaven mounts higher and 
higher ; 
And the vexed Sea travails in ceaseless commotion, 
As though its dark womb bore another ocean. 



175 

Unb ffe§! au$ bem ftnftcr flnrtjenben (S$oo£, 
25 a fyeBet ftdj'S fd)ir>anenn>etg, 
Unb ein 2lrm unb ein gtangenber 9k<Jen roirb Blof, 
Unb eg rnbert mit $raft nnb mit emjtgem gleijj, 
Unb er iffg nnb r)od) in feiner Sinlen 
©djwtngt er ben 23e$er mit frenbigem SMnferu 

Unb atfj mere Tang nnb atfjmete rief, 

Unb Begritfte bag ^tmmlifdje £id)t, 

Wlit grofyloden eg einer bem anbern rief: 

„(£r left! er ift ba! eg Be^ieft tyn nid)t! 

2lng bem ©raB, ang ber ftntbelnben 2Baffertjor)te 

£at ber 33ra$e gerettet bie leBenbe @eete!" 

Unber fommt; eg nmrtngt itjn bie jnMnbe^djaarj 

Qu beg ^onigg Snf^n er finft, 

£)en 23ecfyer tetdjt er ir)m fnteenb bar, 

Unb ber .ftonig ber tieftlid)en £o$ter nn'nfr, 

£5ie futtt ifyn mit fnnfelnbem 2Bein Big gnm Sfanbe, 

Unb ber 3nngling ftdj alfo anm $6nig roanbte; 

„2ang teBe ber $onig ! (£g frene ftdj, 

£Qer ba att)met im roftgten Sidft! 

£)a nnten after ift'g furdjterftdj, 

Unb ber Sftenfd) serfnt^e bie ©otter nt$t, 

Unb Begefjre nimmernnb nimmer $n fdjauen, 

$8$a$ fte gndbig Bebeden mit 9lad)t nnb ®vaum." 

„(£g rig mtdj ^innnter Blt^egfdjnetl, 
SDa ftiirgt' mir ang felftgtem @d)ad)t 
SBilbflntfyenb entgegen ein reigenber Quell; 
'fllity padre beg £)oppetftromg n>utr)enbe Wafyt, 
Unb tt>ie einen $reife(, mit fdntunbehtbem £)rer)en 
SrieB midj'g urn, id) fonnte nidjt nuberftet}en," 



175 

And see ! 'mid the darkness, a swan -white speck, 
That wavers and floats with the eddying main ; 

There rises an arm, and a shining neck ; 
He stems the wild current and struggles amain. 

'Tis He ! — and he lifts from the waters a hand, 

Which holds the rich goblet, and beckons to land. 

He panted long, and he panted sore, 
And greeted the light of Heaven at last — 

There are shouts 'mid the thousands that people the 
shore — 
" 'Tis He ! he is safe, and the peril is past !" 

He smiles to their greeting, he hastes thro' the ring, 

And sinks on his knee at the feet of the king. 

And the king's fair daughter, who stood thereby, 
Receives the bright cup from that page's hold : 

She fills it apace with the grape's purple dye, 
Till the rich foam gleams o'er the circling gold ; 

He takes of his valor the prize and the token, 

And thus to the monarch the gallant hath spoken. 

"Long life to my sovereign ! full gladly I breathe 

The freshness of Heaven once again : 
But 'tis madness to visit jon regions beneath, 

Which the Gods, in their mercy, have hidden from 
men — 
The tide bore me downward, and whirled me as fast 
As leaves in the trail of an Autumn blast. 

" And to meet it there rushed like lightning, amain, 

From some cavern a torrent leaping, 
And they mingled their currents in eddying train, 

Still closer and narrower round me sweeping ; 
And I spun like a top in that giddy dance, 
The idle sport of a whirling trance. 



176 

„<Da getgtc ntir ©ott, $u bent tcty rief, 

3n ber tyod)ften fdjredltctyen Sftotty, 

2ht3 ber £tefe ragenb ein ^elfenrijf, 

2)a3 erfagt' icty betyenb unb entrann bent £ob. 

Unb ba tying <*udj ber 23ettyer an fpifcen ^oratfen, 

©onjl war' er in$ Sobenlofe gefaflen*" 

„T)enn unter ntir tag's ttodj oergettef 

3n purpurner ginjternig ba, 

Unb oo's tyier bent Dtyre gleicty cj»tg fctyltef, 

£)a3 2tnge mit @d)aubern tyinunter faty, 

SBie'S son ©alamanbern nnb SDMctyen unb 2)ractyen 

©icty regt in bent furcfytoaren £otlenractyen," 

„<Sdjtt)ar3 nnmntelten ba,in graufem ©entif$, 

3u fctyenfltctyen ^lumpen geballt, 

£)er ftactytictyte Sftoctye, ber ^Uppenftfcty, 

£)e$ £antmer3 graulictye Ungeftalt, 

Unb brauenb n>ieg ntir bie grimmigen Qtyxit 

2)er entfe^fictye £at, bes Sfteeres £9&ne»" 

„Unb ba tying icty, unb ttar^ mir nut ©raufen 

fcerougt, 
*Bon ber ntenfctylictyen £ttfe fo ttrnt, 
Unter 2art>en bie etngige ftttylenbe 23rufy 
Sitlein in ber gra§lictyen (Sittfamfett, 
£tef unter bent ©ctyall ber ntenfctyltctyett Sfabe 
S3ei ben Ungetyenern ber traurigen £)ebe*" 

„Unb fctyaubernb bactyt tdj's, ba frog's tyeran, 
Sftegte tyunbert ©elenfe sngteicty, 
2Bi£t f$ttdppen nacty ntir; in bes (SctyrecfenS SBatytt 
£a§ tcty To3 ber ^oraEe umllantmerten 3^etg; 
©(eicty fagt nticty ber ©trnbel mit rctfenbem £ofcen, 
SDocty ee n?ar ntir sum £etf, er rip micty nacty often," 



176 

" But I called on my saint in mine anguish and dread, 

In that uttermost peril to guide : 
And a reef rose below me, with coral o'erspread ; 

I seized it, and clung to its rugged side : 
And the goblet hung fast on that stony tree ; 
Or else it had fallen in the bottomless sea. 

"For before me and round me, and mountain-deep, 
The purple darkness lay still as death ; 

And tho' sound might not pierce the ocean's sleep, 
The eye, thro' the void, gazed with terror beneath 

On its moving legions of monstrous form, 

Salamander, and dragon, and foul sea-worm. 

" All hateful abortions- that tenant the flood, 

Thick clustered in masses they lay : 
The shapeless Polypus' million-brood, 

The swift Sword-fish and the prickly Kay, 
And the white teeth glanced thro' the waters dark 
Of Ocean's hysena, the terrible Shark. 

" I hung, with the hideous thought possessed, 
How far from all help of kindred blood — 

'Mid spectres a living and feeling breast, 
Alone in the grisly Solitude — 

Deep under the reach of earthly sound, 

With the monster-brood of the dismal profound ! 

" I deemed in my terror, each merciless eye 

Glared upward, intent to devour : 
The depths heaved from beneath, as their legions drew 
nigh : 

I loosened my grasp, as my hands lost their power, 
And the stream seized me fast with its eddying might, 
But it bore me in mercy to upper light." 



177 



£)er $onig baro"6 ftdj tterttmnbert fdfjier 
Unb fpricfyt: „£)er 23edjer tft betn, 
Unb biefen Sfting nod) beftimm' id) bir, 
®efd)miidt mil bem foftttcfyften (Sbelgeftein, 
23erfud)ft bu 1 3 nod) einmal unb Bring ft mir^unbe, 
2Ba3 bu faf)ft auf bes 9fleer3 tiefunterftem ©runbe*" 

£)a3 $orte bie £od)ter mit meidjem ®efii§I, 
Unb mit fd)meid)elnbem 9ftunbe fie fle^tt 
„8ajj, better, genug fein baS graufame (Spiel I 
Sr 1)at euc^ beftanben, mas feiner beftetjt, 
Unb fount it)r bes ipergenS ©efitjle ntdjt ^afjmen, 
(So mogen bie Skitter ben ^nappen befefyamen," 

£)rauf ber ^ouig gretft nafy bem 23edjer fd)neff, 

Sn ben ©trubel tfyn fd)teubert tjinein: 

„Unb f t^ a ff ft bu ben 23ed)er mir nneber jur ©tell*, 

@o foHft bu ber treffiid)fte fitter mir fein, 

Unb fotlft fte aU @l)gemaljt f)eut nod) umarmen, 

£>ie jefct fiir bid) Btttet mit partem ©r&armen." 

2)a ergreiffs tym bie ©eete mit iMmmelSgeioafr, 

Unb e^ bli£t aus ben 2lugen i|m fittjrt, 

Unb er ftefcet errb'ttyen bie fd)one ©eftalt, 

Unb ftel)t fie erbleid)ert unb ftnlen tytn; 

2) a tretbt 1 ^ tfyn, ben fbftiid)en $rei3 ^u ertoerben, 

Unb ftitrgt t)inunter auf Seoen unb ©ter&eiu 

2Bot)I f)brt man bie 23ranbung, tt>ot)l Icjrt fte jurud, 

©ie ^erlunbigt ber bonnernbe ©c^att; 

2) a biidt ftdj's fjtnunter mit liebenbem Slid, 

(£3 fommen, eS fommen bie SBaffer all, 

©ie raufd)cn tycrauf, fie raufefyen nieber, 

SDen 3ungling bringt femes toieber* 



6d)Mer$ ffimmtt. 2Berfe. L 12 



177 

At the tale of these wonders much marveled the king — 
"The goblet of gold thou hast gallantly won : 

And I add to thy guerdon my costliest ring, 
That flames with the ruby and emerald stone, 

If thou seek the blue gulf of Charybdis once more, 

The scenes of its lowest abyss to explore." 

Up rose that fair princess in midst of the court, 
At the feet of her father she sank to her knee : 

"O Father, no more of this terrible sport ! 
Alone he hath ventured for honor and thee ; 

Or if thy heart's longing thou canst not assuage, 

Bid the Knights of thine island to vie with the Page. " 

But the king seized the goblet, and hurled it anew 

Into Charybdis' foaming tide ; 
"And, bring thou that goblet again to my view, 

With the noblest and first of my knights thou shalt 
ride, 
And she, ere to-morrow, thy consort shall be, 
Who now pleads thus fondly, thus sweetly, for thee !" 

The page read his fate in the maiden's eye, 
He saw her cheek blush, and he marked it grow 
pale ; 

He heard the low sob and the faltering sigh, 
As her breast heaved fast in its silken veil — 

A soul were well ventured, such guerdon to gain !— 

So for life or for death he plunges amain. 

Long, long did they gaze from the crowded strand ; 

They watched the grim whirlpool's ebb and fall : 
Again, the flood rises — all breathless they stand — 

Forth, forth from their caves come the waters all ; 
They seethe and they bellow, they burst on the shore, 



178 



'glitter ^oggettflurg. 

„9Utter, trene (S^wcflcrltcBe 

„2Btbmet tu$ bteS iperg; 
,$orbert feme anbre SieBe, 

„£)enn e3 madjt mir ©djmerj. 
„3htt)tg mag tdj end) erfcfyeinen, 

„9M)tg gef)en fetyn. 
„(£nrer 2Ingen flittes SBeinen 

„$ann \§ mfyt tterftefjm" 

Unb er port's mtt fwmmem #arme, 

*Hei£t fldj Blutenb Io$, 
fPrefjt fie §eftig in bie $rme, 

©djfchtgt fid) auf'fcttt Sftofj, 
Gdjtdt gu feinen SSJknnen aEen 

3n bent £anbe ©d)toetg; 
Sftadj bem fyeii'gen ©rab fie n> alien, 

2luf ber 53ruft bas ^reu^» 

(55ro§e Xtjaten bort gefdjef)en 

2)nrdj ber £elben 2lrm; 
31jre3 JpetmeS SBiifdje toetjen 

3« ber $einbe ©djmarnt; 
Unb beS XoggenBurgerS Sftame 

@djred t ben Sftnfelmann ; 
SDod) bag £erg son feinem ©tame 

sfticfyt genefen Unn. 

Unb etn 3a§r §at cr'g getragen, 
Stragt'S nidjt langer me^r; 

Sfhtlje lann er nid)t erjagen 
Unb serlajt bas £eer j 



178 



KNIGHT TOGGENBURG. 

4 'Knight, to love thee like a sister 

Yows this heart to thee ; 
Ask no other warmer feeling, — 

That were pain to me. 
Tranquil would I see thy coming, 

Tranquil see thee go ; 
"What that starting tear would tell me 

I must never know." 

He with silent anguish listens, 

Though his heart-strings bleed ; 
Clasps her in his last embraces, 

Springs upon his steed, 
Summons every faithful vassal 

From his Alpine home, 
Binds the cross upon his bosom, 

Seeks the Holy Tomb. 

There full many a deed of glory 

"Wrought the hero's arm ; 
Foremost still his plumage floated 

Where the foemen swarm ; 
Till the Moslem, terror-stricken, 

Quailed before his name. 
But the pang that wrings his bosom, 

Lives at heart the same. 

One long year he bears his sorrow, 

But no more can bear ; 
Rest he seeks, but, finding never, 

Leaves the army there ; 



179 

Sttfjt etrt @tf)tff an 3qWz& ©tranbe, 

T)a$ bte ©egel M&Ijt, 
©djiffet f)etm ^nm ttjenren Sanbe, 

$3o i$r 2W>em »e$t. 

Unb an iljreg @d)Toffeg $forte 

$Iopft ber ^>ilger an; 
5fdj, nnb mtt bent Donnertr-orte 

2Btrb fte aufgetfyan: 
„3Me tfjr fndjet, tragt ben ©deleter, 

„3ft be^ £>tmmelg 23rant, 
;/ ©eftetn tt>ar beg Xaa,e$ $eier, 

„£)er fie ©ott getrant" 

$Da tterlaffet er auf immer 

Seiner better ©d)tof, 
©eine SCaffen ftef)t er nimmer, 

9fod) fetn trene^ fftof ♦ 
SSon ber Xoggenfmrg ^ernteber 

©teigt er nnftefannt, 
T)mn eg bedt bie ebeln ©lieber 

Jpareneg ©etr-anb* 

Unb erBant ftdj etne ipihte 

3ener ®egenb natj, 
2£o bag Softer au$ ber mttt 

£)iiftrer Sinben fatj; 
£arrenb von beg 2D?orgeng Stdjte 

25tg ^n 2T6enbg ©$etn, 
©tiUe ipoffnnng tm ©eftdjte, 

©afj er ba aUtin. 
S3U(fte nadj bent ^tojter brtttjen, 

S3H(fte ftnnbenlang 
5^ac^ bem ^enfter feiner Siefcen, 

S3tg bag genfter ilana,, 



179 

Sees a ship by Joppa's haven, 

Which with swelling sail 
Wafts him where his lady's breathing 

Mingles with the gale. 

At her father's castle portal, 

Hark ! his knock is heard ; 
See ! the gloomy gate uncloses 

With the thunder-word : 
" She thou seek'st is veiled forever, 

Is the bride of Heaven ; 
Yester-eve the vows were plighted, — 

She to God is given." 

Then his old ancestral castle 

He forever flees ; 
Battle-steed and trusty weapon 

Nevermore he sees. 
From the Toggenburg descending, 

Forth unknown he glides ; 
For the frame once sheathed in iron 

Now the sackcloth hides. 

There beside that hallowed region 

He hath built his bower, 
Where from out the dusky lindens 

Looked the convent tower ; 
Waiting from the morning's glimmer 

Till the day was done, 
Tranquil hope in every feature, 

Sat he there alone. 

Gazing upward to the convent, 

Hour on hour he passed, 
Watching still his lady's lattice, 

Till it oped at last,— 



180 

33t3 bte SteBIicfje fid) jeigte, 

33is bag tfjenre 33itb 
@idj ins £fyal f)ernnter netgte, 

3M)tg, engefmtfb, 

Unb bann legt' cr fro$ ffdj nteber, 

©d)Iief getroftet etn, 
©titt fid) ftenenb, toenn e$ foteber 

Sttorgen ttitrbe fein. 
Unb fo fa fj er oiele 2 age, 

(5a£ oiel 3atjre tang, 
£arrenb otjtte ©djmer^ nnb ^Tage, 

33t$-ba3 genjter Hang* 

33t3 bte SteBTit^c ftdj ^etgte, 

33is ba$ ttjenre 23ilb 
©id) ins £{jal tyernnter neigte, 

StuJjig, engelmilb* 
Unb fo fafj er, eitte Seiche, 

(Sines Sftorgens ba; 
5^a^ bent genfter itoc| bas Met$* 

©title Sfotlifc fa§*. 



5er $ampf mif bem pradjeu. 

SBas rennt bas 33otf, n>a$ wctty ftdj bort 
SDie langen (Sajfett Branfenb fort? 
©titrjt 9W)obns unter geuers glammen? 
@3 rottet fid) im ©hum ^nfammen, 
Unb etnen fitter, t)od) gu Stof> 
($ematjr' id) aus bent 9ftenfd)entrofi; 
Unb Winter iljm, toeld) 2Ioentener! 
23rtngt wan gefd)leppt ein Ungefjeuerj 



180 

Till that form looked forth so lovely, 

Till the sweet face smiled 
Down into the lonesome valley, 

Peaceful, angel-mild. 

Then he laid him down to slumber, 

Cheered by peaceful dreams, 
Calmly waiting till the morning 

Showed again its beams. 
Thus for days he watched and waited, 

Thus for years he lay, 
Happy if he saw the lattice 

Open day by day ; — 

If that form looked forth so lovely, 

If the sweet face smiled 
Down into the lonesome valley, 

Peaceful, angel-mild. 
There a corse they found him sitting 

Once when day returned, 
Still his pale and placid features 

To the lattice turned. 

Edinburgh Beview. 



THE FIGHT WITH THE DRAGON. 

"Why stirs the town, why rolls along 
From street to street the billowy throng ? 
Is Rhodes on flame, that they should come 
Like crowds waked by the midnight drum ? 
A gallant knight, and mounted high, 
Amid the shouting throngs I spy ; 
Behind, a shape of aspect dread, 
Upon a slow dragged wain is led ; 



181 

(Sin Dradje fc^eint eg son ©eftatt 
Sftit feet tent ^rofobifegracljen, 
Unb atteg Mitft tternmnbert Balb 
S)en Skitter an nnb Balb ben £)ra$eru 

Unb taufenb (Stimmen fterben font: 
„X)a^ tft ber Sinbttmrm, fommt nnb fcfjant, 
2)er £irt nnb £eerben nng tterfd^Inngen! 
£)as ift ber ipelb, ber it) it Begmnngen! 
SMel anbre gogen box ir)m ang, 
3n foagen ben gewalYgen ©traufj,' 
£)od) leinen far) man n?ieberter)ren; 
2)en fiir)nen fitter foil man etjren!" 
Unb nadt) bem Softer get)t ber Quq, 
SBo <3anct 3^anng beg Sanferg Drben, 
Die fitter beg (Spirals, im ghtg 
3n 3flatr)e ftnb tterfammelt roorben* 

Unb »or ben ebeln 9tteifter tritt 

2>r 3uitgltng nut Befct)etbnem ©djritt; 

Sftadjbrangt bag 33 oil, mit nrilbem 3^nfen, 

(Srfitttenb beg ©elanberg ©tufen. 

Unb jener nimmt bag SBort nnb fpridjt: 

„3cr) %<lV erfiillt bie StttterpfTtdjt 

S)er £>radje, ber bag Sanb serobet, 

(£r Hegt £>on meiner ipanb getobtetj 

grei ift bem 2Banberer ber 2Beg, 

£)er Jpirte rretfre ing ©eftlbe, 

grot) watte anf bem gelfenfteg 

£)er $>itger px bem ©nabenMlW 

£)o.cr) ftrenge Mi tft ber $iirft ir)n an 
Unb fpridjt: „£)u f)aft ate £elb getr)an; 
£>er Sfflntij ift'g, ber ben fitter eljret, 
2)u f)aft ben fiujnen (Deift ben>ar)ret 



181 

A dragon, by its scaly hide 
I know it, and its jaws so wide ; 
And all behold, with wondering sight, 
The dragon now, and now the knight. 

A thousand voices shout with glee, 
"This is the dragon, come and see ! 
That swallowed all with sateless greed, 
The hero this that hath us freed ! 
Pull many a knight before him went, 
To slay the bloody dragon bent ; 
But never a knight came from the fight, 
Praise to this bold, this noble knight !" 
And to the cloister hied they on, 
Where sate the brave Knights of St. John, 
Where sate the Knights of Jerusalem, 
In solemn council met, they came. 

Before the throne the young knight stands, 
And bares his head, and folds his hands ; 
The pressing crowds impatient tread 
Upon the circling balustrade : 
"My knightly duty I have done," 
Exclaimed the youth, " the fight is won ; 
The dragon that laid waste the land, 
I slew it with my sword in hand ; 
The wanderer now may wend his way, 
The shepherd on his reed may play, 
The pilgrim now, from terror free, 
At holy shrine may bend the knee !" 

But sternly looks the chief, and says, 
"Well hast thou earned a hero's praise, 
Por valor most adorns the knight, 
And thou hast fought a valiant light. 
30 



182 

£)odj fprtdj! t»a« ijt Me erfte $flid)t 
£)eS fitters, ber fur (Etjrifium ftd)t, 
@tdj fd)mucfet mit be* ^reu^eS 3 e ^ e ^? /l 
Unb alte tings tjerum erBleidjen, 
£)odj er, mit eblem 2Inftanb, fprtdjt, 
3nbem er ftdj errot^enb neiget: 
„©et)orfam ift bie erfte *PfIid)t, 
£)ie if)n be3 ©denudes nmrbig aeiget" 

„Unb biefe ^Pflidjt, meitt (5o^n/' ijerfe^t 
£)er 9Jtafter, „t)aft bu fred) serle^r. 
2)en $ampf, ben ba» ©efe£ serfage:, 
£afi bu nut freslem 5ftutfj gemaget!" — ■ 
„£err, rid)te, ttenn bu alleS toeift," 
(Sprint jener mit gefefetem ©eift, 
„£)enn beS ©efe|e3 ©inn unb ^Bitten 
SSermeinf id) treulid) gu erfittlen* 
sjHdjt un6ebad)tfam gog id) t)in, 
©as Ungefyeuer 3U Befriegen; 
SDurd) Sift unb Huggemanbten (Sinn 
Skrfudjt' idj's, in bem ^ampf m fiegen*' 1 

„$itnf unferS DrbenS tt>aren fcfton, 
£>te 3ietben ber Religion, 
SDeS liil)nen $Jlufyz$ £)pfer ttorben; 
£)a tr-e^rtejx bu ben .ftampf bem Dtbetu 
2)od) an bem ipergen nagten mir 
2)er Unmutt) unb bie ©treitBegier, 
3a, felBft im £raum ber ftillen 9ladjte 
ganb idj midj feucftenb im ©efedjte; 
Unb tvenn ber 5D?orgen bammernb tarn 
Unb ^unbe gaB son neuen §)lagen, 
S)a fafte mid) em fritber ©ram, 
Unb id) Befdjloj?, e3 frifd) $u wagen." 



182 

But speak ! what is the first of laws 

For him who fights in Jesus' cause, 

The sacred sign upon his mail ?" 

— And all that hear the words turn pale. 

But he with noble firmness speaks, 

A manly blush upon his cheeks, 

" Obedience is the law divine 

That makes him worthy of the sign." 

" This law divine," the master said, 

" Thy foot hath stamped with reckless tread ; 

A fight forbidden thou hast fought, 

And held thy knightly faith at naught." 

"Judge, master, when thou know'st the whole," 

Spake he, with calm untroubled soul. 

"The Order's law, the master's will, 

Deemed I most truly to fulfill ; 

Not rash and thoughtless did I go 

To lay the fearful monster low, 

But pondered well was my intent, 

And more of wiles than blows were spent. 

" Five noble knights had fallen low, 
The victims of the dragon foe ; 
Then came thy mandate to abstain 
From hopeless fight, from contest vain. 
Ill might I brook the stern command, 
That fettered my impatient brand, — 
By busy day, by silent night, 
I wrestled in the bloody fight ; 
And when with morning's early dawn 
New cries of terror crossed the lawn, 
My boiling blood I might not tame, 
And vowed to wipe away our shame. 



183 

„Uttb ju nttr feloer fpradj idj battttt 

2Bag fdjmitcft bett 3imgtmg, e^rt ben S^atttt? 

SBag leifteten bie tapfent ipelbeit, 

SSott bertett wttg bie Steber melben, 

2)te ju ber hotter ©lang itttb SRttljm 

(Srfjub bag btittbe Jpeibent^um? 

<Sie reinigtett sott Ungefyeuern 

SDie SBelt in lii^nen 2l6ettteuent, 

S3egegnetett im $ampf bent £etm 

Uttb rangett mtt bem Sftittotaitrett, 

SDie armett Dpfer gu Befreitt, 

Unb Uef ett ffdj bag $8lut tttcfyt baitretu" 

„3ft ttur ber (Saracen eg tuerttj, 

£>a£ if)tt Befampft beg S^riftett <3$toert? 

23efrtea,t er ttwr bie falfd)ett ©otter? 

©efattbt ift er ber SBelt gum better, 

SSott jeber 9cotlj Uttb jebem iparm 

Sefreiett mug fetn ftarler 2frm ; 

£>odj feittett 9ftutt) mug SBeig^ett lettett, 

Uttb Sift ntitf mit ber ©tarfe jkeitetu 

<5o fpracfy \§ oft uub jog aHeitt, 

2)eg 3fiauBtfjterg galjrte jit erluttbeit; 

£>a flogte mir ber ®eift eg etn, 

grof) rief idj aug: 3$ l)aV$ cjefunbenl" 

„Uttb trat $u bir uttb fpracfy bag SBortt 
Sftidj gieljt eg ttacfy ber ipeimatlj fort* 
2)u, £err, auttfafyrteft meinett bitten, 
Uttb ajucfttd) tr-ar bag 9fteer bur$fd)tttttetu 
$aum ftieg id? attg am f)etm 1 f$ett (Strattb, 
©leicfy lief tdj bur$ beg ^imftlerg £attb, 
©etreu ben ttofytBemerfteu 3^9 e tt/ 
(Sitt £)radjettBtlb aufammettfugetu 



183 

"And to myself I spake— what deed 
Is youth's reward, is manhood's meed ? 
What did the sons of mighty name, 
Whose praise heroic songs proclaim, 
Who to the rank of deity 
Were raised by blind idolatry ? 
Did they not purify the earth 
From fearful things of monstrous birth ? 
Did they not face the lion's roar> 
And wrestle with the Minotaur, 
Bidding their blood in streams to flow, 
That free the prisoned souls might go ? 

"Deserves alone the Moorish head 
To fall beneath a Christian blade ? 
Eight we the idol gods alone ? 
Ko ! every sigh and every groan 
Sent up from every anguished breast, 
Calls on the knight, with loud behest, 
Courage with wisdom to unite, 
And mingle cunning with his might — 
Thus spake I oft, and wandering then, 
Tracked out the dragon's bloody den ; 
Of many plans G-od showed me one. 
I cried rejoicing, — ' It is done !' 

" And came to thee, and asked thy leave 
To visit home, a short reprieve ; 
Thou, sire, didst not refuse my prayer, 
And fleet o'er the wide seas I fare. 
Scarce had I reached my native strand, 
When, by an artist's cunning hand, 
A dragon shape I made, and knew, 
Well marked, each ugly feature true 



184 

5Xuf hitmen gitfen toirb Me £a(r 
Deg langen fietfceg aufgetfyitrmet; 
(Sin fdjup»td)t spangerfjemb umfafjt 
Den Sftiiden, ben eg furdjr&ar fdjirmet" 

„2ang ftredet ftdj ber $aU fyeroor, 

Unb grafjttdj, toie em ipoltentfjor, 

2llg fdjnappt 1 e^ gierig nadj ber 23eute, 

(groffrtet fid) beg $a$eng SGctte, 

Unb aug bent fdjioarjen ©d)Iunbe braun 

Der 3at)ne ftadjelid>te £Ftet£>n ; 

Die Btwge gleidjt beg ©djtoerteg @|n£e, 

Die Heinen 2lugen fpritfyen S3li|ej 

3« eiite Sd)lange enbigt ftc^ 

Deg Sftitdeng ungefyeure Sartge, 

9Mt urn fid) fetkr fitrd)terlid), 

Dag eg urn Sftarnt unb £Ro^ ftdj fdjlange," 

„Unb alleg Mlb 1 tdj nadj genau 

Unb ffeifc' eg in ein f^enffi^ ®rau; 

$aW $3urm erfd)ien'g, ^alb 9ftol$ unb Dradje, 

©egeuget in ber gtft'gen Sadje, 

Unb alg bag 33tfb sollenbet roar, 

(SxtofyV idj nttr ein Doggenpaar, 

©emaltig, fcfynetl, son flinfen £aufen, 

©e»o$nt, ben mtlbeu Ur gu greifen* 

Die tyefc 1 id) auf ben Smbtournt an, 

(gr^t^e fte gu toilbem ©rimme, 

3u fajfen if)n mit fdjarfem 3a$n, 

Unb lenfe fte mit nteiner ©ttmme." 

„Unb wo beg S5aud)eg ioeid)eg 35Iieg 
Den fdjarfen S3 1 (fen Sloge lief, 
Da rei^ td) fte, ben SGurnt gu paden, 
Die fpi^en S^ite einau^aden* 



184 

On stunted feet its monstrous weight 
Climbs like a tower, in awkward height, 
And round and round, a scaly mail 
Scoffs every effort to assail. 

" Its huge neck stretches many an ell, 
And, like the yawning gates of hell, 
Sucking their prey from every side, 
Its jaws are opened long and wide ; 
Fierce in its swarthy mouth it shows 
Sharp teeth in triple bristling rows ; 
Its tongue is like a pointed blade, 
Its little eyes shoot lightnings dread, 
Its grated spine, both broad and long, 
Ends in a tail of serpent strong, 
Whose bloody knots have often bound 
Both man and beast in scapeless round. 

"All to the hideous life was true, 
E'en to the gray and ghastly hue ; 
It seemed half dragon and half snake, 
Born of the black infernal lake ; 
And when the shape was finished quite, 
Two dogs I chose me strong and wight, 
Well trained, I wis, by huntsmen good, 
To chase the wild bull through the wood ; 
I drive them on, I chafe their ire, 
They seize the scaly monster dire 
With angry tooth, while standing nigh, 
I urge them onwards with my cry. 

"And when the belly's softer parts 
Are open laid to hostile arts, 
I made them seize the monster there, 
And with their pointed fangs it tear. 



185 

3$ felfcfi, fottaffnet mtt ©efdjog, 
SBeftetge nteitt arafrtfd) 5fo£, 
23on abetiger 3**$* entftammet; 
Unb aU id) fetnett 3orn entflammet, 
Sftafd) auf ben £>rad)en fpreng 1 id) 1 g tog 
Unb ftad)! 1 eg mit ben fdjarfen (Sporen, 
Unb toerfe gielenb metn ©efd)o£, 
3K0 wottf i$ bie ©ejiatt burdjootjren," 

„£>o and) bag 9to§ ftdj grauenb oaumt 
Unb !nirfd)t nnb in ben 3#gel fdjaumt, 
Unb meine 3)oggen angftlicf) ftot)nen, 
9ttd)t raft' tdj, Big fte ftd) getoofjnen* 
©o W idj'3 au$ mit (Smftgfeit, 
23ig breimal ftd) ber 9ftortb erneur, 
Unb aU fte jebeg red)t begrtffen, 
gu^r' id) fte {jer anf fdjneften (Stiffen* 
£)er britte SSftorgen ift eg nnn, 
2)afj mtr 1 ^ gelungen, tjier gu lanben; 
£)en ©liebern gonnf ify faum p rutjn, 
23tg idj bag grope $3erf beftanben," 

„£)enn J)eig erregte mir bag ^erg 
£)eg Sanbeg frtfd) ernenter <Sd)mer$, 
3erriffen fanb man jixngft bie Jpirten, 
S)ic nadj bem ©umpfe ftd) fcerirrtetw 
Unb id) Befd)lie§e rafdj bie Slfjat, 
2?ur Don bem £er$en netytn 1 id) Sftatlj. 
glugg unterricfyt 1 idj meine happen, 
23eftetge ben oerfudjten happen, 
Unb oon bem ebeln iDeggenpaar 
SBegteitet, auf ge^etmen SBegen, 
2Bo meiner Xfyat fetn 3 e ^9^ tt>ar, 
Sftett 1 tdj bem getube frifd) entgegem" 



185 

Myself upon my Arab steed, 

Of mettle proved, of noble breed, 

Armed as for fiercest combat, storm 

Against the hideous dragon-form. 

With loud halloo for battle cry 

I spur him on to victory ; 

And throw my darts with aim so true, 

As might I pierce the dragon through. 



" And though my -proud steed rears him high, 

And champs his bit impatiently, 

And though my trim curs howl and moan, 

Without remit I urge them on. 

Thus are they trained from day to day, 

Till thrice the moon renews her ray : 

And when they are in finished train, 

On winged ship I cross the main. 

Three days have passed, have passed no more, 

Since first I landed on this shore ; 

My weary limbs I might not rest 

Till I fulfilled my high behest. 

"For it did pierce me through and through 
To hear the boors their cries renew, 
Aud tell of shepherds gored and torn, 
That in the foggy fens were lorn ; 
My heart commands, and I obey, 
I gird me to the work straightway, 
I mount my trusty Arab steed, 
My trusty squires attend my need, 
My faithful curs my voice obey, 
And wend with me on secret way, 
Where none might know our travel's bent, 
Or interrupt our bold intent. 



186 

„£)as Stix&fltin fennft bn, £err, bag IjocC) 
2luf etneg gelfenbergeg 3o$, 
SDer toett bte 3«(e( iiberfdjauet, 
£)eg SDMfterg turner ©eift erbauet 
23era$tltdj fc^etnt eg, arm unb fletn, 
£)o$ ein SUttrafel fdjltejjjt eg ein, 
Die Gutter mit bem 3cfugfnaben, 
2)en bte bret ^ontge begaben* 
2luf breimal bretfjig ©tufen fteigt 
3>r pilgrim nad) ber fteilen £o$e$ 
2)od) fyat er fcfynrinbelnb ffe erretdjt, 
(Erqmcft i^n feineg ipeilanbg yityt." 

„£tef in ben $elg, auf bem eg l)angt, 

3ft eine ©rotte etngefprengt, 

33om SHjau beg nafyen Sftoorg befeucfytet, 

$3ol)in beg Jpimmetg ©tratyl ntdjt leud)teL 

£ier Ijaufete ber $3urm unb lag, 

£)en Staub erfpctfyenb, 9?ad)t unb Xa$. 

(So tyielt er, toie ber £ollenbra$e, 

Sim gu§ beg ©otteg^aufeg 2Bad)e; 

Unb fam ber pilgrim f)ergetoatft 

Unb lenlte in bte Unglitdgftra^e, 

Jperoorbr ad) aug bem Winter I) alt 

2)er getnb unb trug it)n fort turn ^rafje." 

„£)en ^elfen ftteg tdj jejjt l)tnan, 
(St)' id) ben fd)toeren @trau£ U^arm} 
iptn fntef id) oor bem Sfyrtftugftitbe 
Unb retnigre mein #erg son ©iinbe* 
-Drauf gitrt' td) mir im £>etltgt()um 
£)en blaufen ©d)mud ber SKaffen urn 
23ewel)re mit bem ©ptej? bte Sftedjte, 
Unb nieber ftetg' td) jum ©efed)te. 



186 

" Thou know'st the chapel, sire : it stands 

Upon a rock whose height commands 

The smiling island far and near ; 

No vulgar hand such work might rear. 

And though without it seem but small, 

Within its treasure passeth all. 

The mother and the babe divine, 

And the three kings that saw the sign. 

Three times thirty steps ascends 

The pilgrim, ere his labor ends, 

But soon forgets the giddy road 

When near to Christ, and near to God. 

"Deep in the rock there is a grot, 
Where light of glad day cometh not, 
A noisome and empoisoned den, 
Dank with thick vapors of the fen. 
Within this den the dragon lay, 
His victims watching night and day, 
A hellish watchman at the gate 
Of God's own house, the monster sate , 
And when the pilgrim passed before 
The spot oft stained with human gore, 
From ambuscade the dragon came, 
And swallowed up his weary frame. 

" Before the doubtful fight I try, 
The sacred rock I mounted high, 
And knelt before the babe, to cleanse 
My soul from sin by penitence. 
There, when the wondrous image shone, 
My glittering gear I girded on, 
And with my good spear in the right, 
Descend well-omened to the fight. 



187 

QmMt BtetBt ber .ftnappen Zxo$; 
3$ geBe fcfyeibenb bte 23efel)le, 
Unb fdjnnnge mid) Betjenb auf$ dio% 
Unb ©ott empfel)P id) meine @ccte." 

„$aum fefj 1 tdj midj im eBnen §)tan, 
frlugg fd)lagen meine Doggen an, 
Unb Bang Begtnnt bag 3^oJ3 ju feudjen 
Unb Baumet fldj unb will nidjt weidjenj 
2)enn na^e liegt, gum ^naul geBallt, 
£)eg geinbeg f^euffic^c ©ejlait 
Unb fcmnet jtdj auf garment ®runbe* 
Sluf jagen i()n bte jTtnfen £unbe; 
£)od) toenben fie ftdj pfetlgefdjmtnb, 
2t(g eg ben Sfodjen gcifynenb tljetlet 
Unb son ftdj §aud)t ben gtft'gen 28mb 
Unb »infefttbttueber©djafal fjeulet" 
,/Dodj fdjnefl etfrifd)' tdj itjren Siftut^, 
<Ste faffen ifyren $einb mil SSuttj, 
3nbem tdj nad) beg £!)iereg Senbe 
Slug ftarfer gauft ben ©peer serfenbe; 
£)od) mad)tlog, tine ein biinner ©tab, 
$ratlt er $om ©djuppenpanjer aB, 
Unb tty id) meinen SBurf erneuet, 
£)a Bdumet fid) mein Sftofj unb fcfyeuet 
2ln feinem 23afttigfenBUcf 
Unb feineg 2ft$em$ gift'gem 2Betjen, 
Unb ntit Sntfefcen fprtngt'g guriidf, 
Unb je^o voav 1 $ urn mid) gefdjefjen — " 

,/Da fuming 1 id) midj Beljenb sorn 9to§, 
©djnefl tft beg (Sd)merteg @d)netbe Btog; 
£>od) atte <3treid)e ftnb serlomt, 
£>en gelfenfyarnifd) in burdjBoijren, 



187 

I leave behind my faithful band 
Of squires, and give my last command ; 
And, mounting light my faithful steed, 
Pray God to help me in my need. 

" Scarce had I reached the open spot 
That lies before the noisome grot, 
When bark my curs, and snorts my steed, 
And rears him high, and checks his speed ; 
For, lo ! wound up in fearful clue, 
Exposed the monster lies to view, 
And basks him in the sultry sun ; 
My ready curs against him run, 
But, rising quick, he gives them pause, 
And wide he opes his ponderous jaws, 
And sends his breath forth like a blight, 
And howls like jackall in the night. 

"But quickly I revive their rage, 
And with new fury they engage, 
While I my spear, my strongest, throw 
With might against the scaly foe ; 
But powerless as a stone it falls 
Thrown back from triple granite walls, 
And ere I could renew my throw 
My steed shies from the hideous foe ; 
He fears that eye of serpent glare, 
He fears that breath that chokes the air, 
And startles back— and now the strife 
Well nigh had ended with my life. 

" Quick from my steed I spring, and bear 
My ready brand with threatful air ; 
But all my blows fall dintless on 
That harness harder than the stone, 



188 

Unb nmt^enb mit beS (SdjweifeS $rafit 
£at es gur (Erbe midj gerap; 
©djon fef^ td) [eaten Sftadjen galjnen, 
.S$ fyaut nadj mir mit grimmen 3&fy tte fy 
2U3 meine £mnbe, wuttyentferattnt, 
2ln feinen 23aud) mit grimm'gen 33ij[en 
S:$ tt>arfen, bag e» fyeulenb ftanb, 
#on unge^eurem ©djmera gerriffen." 

„Unb, e$' eS ttjren SBijfcn ftdj 
(£nmunbet, rafdj cr^eb' id) midj, 
Srfpafye mir be3 geinbeS 23loj?e 
Unb jtoge ttef tym ins ®efrofe, 
*ftad)Bofyrenb Big cms ipeft ben ©tafjf* 
(S^margquettenb fptingt be3 33fute$ ©tva^I* 
£tn ftnft e$ unb BegraBt im ftattt 
Sftid) mit beS SeiBeS ^iefenBatfe, 
£)a§ fc^nell bie ©inne mir oergefyn* 
Unb aU tdj neuge[tarft ermad)e, 
©eV idj bie .ftnappen urn mid) [teljn, 
Unb tobt im 33Iute liegt ber £>ra4e." 

£)eS 23eifaff3 tang geljemmte Sufi 
33efrett Je£t alter £orer 23ruft, 
<So tone ber Skitter bieS aefprod^en; 
Unb gefynfad) am ©emolb geBrod)en, 
SBatgt ber t>ermtfd)ten ©ttmmen ©cfyatf 
<5idj Braufenb fort im SBtebertjaff. 
£aut forbern feXbft beg DrbenS ©ofjne, 
£)a§ man bie £elbenftirne frone, 
Unb banlBar im Sriumpfygeprang 
SBitf it)n bag ©oil bem ©olfe seigen; 
2)a faltet feme ©time ftreng 
S)er Sfteijler unb geBietet (Scfytteicjen* 



188 

And with his tail, wide lashing round, 
It brings me powerless to the ground. 
Already seemed its yawnhig jaws 
Before the mighty gulp to pause, 
When rush my curs, a faithful pair, 
Upon the softer parts laid bare, 
And bite, and tear, and pinch it so, 
It stands and howls for very woe. 



"And while it howls in agony, 
With sudden spring I shake me free, 
Deep to the hilt my sword I bury 
Within the monster's mesentery, 
Where scales protect not from his foes, 
And from the wound the black blood flows. 
He sinks, and buries in his fall 
Me with his body's weighty ball. 
My senses leave me. In a swound 
I lay ; and when I looked around, 
My faithful squires beside me stood, — 
Dead lay the Dragon in his blood." 

Scarce had the noble youth made pause, 
When loud arose the free applause : 
Too long restrained the mingled tide 
Of rival plaudits, multiplied, 
Came from the echoing roof tenfold, 
As swelling wave on wave is rolled. 
His brother knights with one acclaim 
Might crown him with a wreath of fame, 
From street to street in triumph proud 
Might bear him on the grateful crowd. 
The master folds his brow severe, 
And bids the throngs in silence hear. 



189 

Unb fprtdjh „£)en £)ra$en, ber bieg 2cmfc 
SScr^eert, fdjlugft bit mit tapfrer £anbj 
(Sin ©ott Mft t>u bem SSolfe morben, 
(Sin geinb fommft bu guriidf tern Drben, 
Unb einen fdjtimmern $3urm gebar 
2)ein Jpev^, aU btefer £)racfye war. 
S)ic ©flange, bte bag iperj oergiftet, 
■Die 3wtetra$t unb 23erberoen fttftet, 
£)a$ ift ber toiberfoenft'ge ©eift, 
2)er gegett 3udjt ft$ frec^ emporet, 
£)er SDrbnung l)ei(tg 25anb gerreifjt; 
£)enn ber ijT$, ber bte 23ett gerftoret," 

„9ftutlj getget and) ber 9ftamelutf, 
©efyorfam tft ber G^rifien @c^mucf; 
!Denn mo ber £>err in feiner ©rope 
©ewanbelt f)at in $ne$te»Ho§e, 
£)a ftifteten, attf 1)etPgem ©runb, 
£)ie better biefeS DrbenS 23unb, 
2)er $flid)ten f^toerfle gu erfittlen, 
3u Banbigen ben eignen 2Bitten. 
£)td) §at ber eitle 9htf)m Bemegt, 
£)rum toenbe bid) aus metnen Sltcfen! 
£)enn toer be3 £erren 3o$ ni$t trctgt, 
£>arf fid) mit feinem $reug nidjt fdjmucfen*" 

•Da Bridjt bie 9ftenge toBenb au$, 
©etoalt'ger (Sturm Betoegt bag $au$, 
Urn ©nabe flefjen atle Sritber; 
£)odj fdjtoeigenb blidt ber 3itngUng nieber, 
©till legt er oon fify bas ©emanb 
Unb fit^t beS SftetfterS ftrenge £anb 
Unb ge§t ©er folgt itjm mit bem 23Iide, 
£)aun rnft er tteoenb xijn juritcfe 



189 

And speaks : " Thy valiant hand hath slain 

The foe that many fought in vain ; 

The grateful people's Deity, 

Thou art thine order's enemy ; 

Thy heart hath borne a serpent, know, 

Worse than the bloody dragon-foe. 

That snake, the venom of thy breast, 

A will it is by pride possessed, 

Whose stubborn bent may not incline 

To order and to discipline, 

That man from man asunder tears, 

And with itself to ruin bears. 



"Wild courage may the Moor display, 
A Christian's boast is to obey ; 
For where the Lord of earth and skies 
Walked in a servant's humble guise, 
The fathers of our order there 
The vow of holy knighthood sware, 
The hardest duty to fulfill, 
To curb our own rebellious will I 
Thee hath vain glory led astray, 
Go, take thee from my sight away ! 
Who scorns his master's yoke divine, 
Not worthy is to wear his sign." 

Breaks out the crowd with angry roar, 
His brother-knights for grace implore, 
And shakes the pillared dome around ; 
But silent looks upon the ground 
The youth, and doffs his knightly gear, 
Kisses the master's hand severe, 
And goes. He follows with his eye, 
And back he calls him lovingly, 
31 



190 

Unb fprtdjt: „Umarme mt$, ntein <Bo^n\ 
S)ir ift ber prt're $ampf gelnngen, 
Stimm biefeg jfreuj. @£ ift ber So^rt 
£)er £>emntf), bte ftdj felfcji beamnngen*" 



Jer $ang ttadj 5em ^tfettfjatttmer. 

©in frommer ^nedjt mar gribolitt, 

Unb in ber ftuxfyt beg £errn, 

(Srgeben ber ©ebteterin, 

£>er ©rajtn son ©a&ertt, 

©ie mar fo fanft, jte mar fo gnt; 

£>odj and) ber Sannen UeBermntfy 

$'&tV er geeifert ju erfuflen 

Sftit grenbigfeir, urn ©ottes mitten- 

grii§ son beg £ageg erjhm ©djein, 

23i3 fpat bie SBefper fd)tng,- 

?ebt er nur invent Dienjl allein, 

Xfyat rummer jtdj genng. 

Unb fprad) bie T)axm: „9fta$ btYs letd&t!" 

£)a mnrb' U)m gleicfc bag 5luge feudjt, 

Unb meinte, (einer spflidjt jn fet)len, 

2)urft' er jtc& nidjt im T)ienfte qnaleru 

£)rnm tier bent ganjen £>tenertrof 

£>te ©raftn ttyrt er^ob; 

2ln£ it)rem fd)6nen SSftnnbe flog 

©ein nnerfefyopfteg £oB. 

@ie tytelt ifyn nidjt al$ ifjren $ne$r, 

(£3 gab fein ^>erj iftm $inbegred)t; 

3fyr Hares Singe mit SSergniigen 

£ing an ben mo^igeftaften 3«3 en » 



190 

And speaks. — "Embrace me, noble son, 
The harder light thy faith hath won ! 
This cross receive. It is the meed 
Of humble heart, and noble deed." 

German Wreath, 



THE JOURNEY TO THE FORGE. 

A guileless page was Eridolin, 

As from my tale ye '11 learn ; 
He served with heart, that knew no sin, 

The Countess of Savern. 
She was all gentleness to him ; 
But any wish of hers, or whim, 
The wayward bent of woman's will, 
He would have hastened to fulfill*. 

From morning's dawn, when day first shone, 

Till evening's twilight died, 
He lived for her commands alone, 

Yet ne'er was satisfied. 
And said the lady, " Toil no more," 
His glistening eye with tears ran o'er ; 
And ne'er from labor would he rest, 
Till weariness his limbs opprest. 

And hence above the servant crowd, 

She loved the youth to raise, 
And from her beauteous lips there flowed 

Incessantly his praise. 
Nor of her servants seemed he one ; 
Her heart esteemed him as a son ; 
And oft her eye reposed with joy 
On the sweet feartures of the boy. 



191 

©aroB entBrennt in SfloBert^ 23rujt, 

©eg 3ager3, gift'ger ©rotl, 

©em langjt son Bofer (Sdjabentujt 

©ie.fdjwarje @eele fdjwofl; 

Unb trat jum ©rafen, rafd) mr 2$<rt# 

Unb offcn be3 23erfitf)rer3 Sftattj, 

9LU etnji ijom Sagen t)eim fte lameit, 

©treut itym ins ^erg bes SlrgmofjnS ©amett: 

„2$te feib i$r gUtdfli*, ebler ©raf," 
£uB er sjotl SSCrgtift an, 

„£udj rauBet nidjt ben golbnen <5d)faf 

©eS 3»etfel$ gtft'ger 3a^n; 

©enn tfjr Beftjst tin ebleS $3etB, 

S3 gitrtet @c^am belt feufdjen SeiB» 

©ie fromme £reue $u Beritcfen 

SBtrb nimmer bem SBerfudjer glitcfen." 

©a rotft ber ©raf bie fmftertt Srau'nt 
„2Ba$ reb'ft bu mtr, ©efeU? 
SBerb' tdj auf $3eiBe3tugenb Bau'n, 
23emeglt4 »te bie 2BelT? 
£eidjt lodfet fte be$ ©djmetdjIerS 9ftunb; 
SO^eirt ©lauBe jfctyt auf fefterm ©runb* 
SSom 2BetB bes ©rafeu son ©atterne 
SBIetBt' §off tdj, ber 23erfu$er feme*" 

©er anbre fprtdjt: „<So benft t^r re$t* 

Stfur euren ©pott tterbient 

©er Xfyov, ber, em geborner $ne$t, 

(£tn foldjeS jtd) erfttlmt, 

Unb $u ber grau, bie t$m geBeut, 

(SrBeBt ber SBunf^e Sitftern^eit" — 

„2Ba3 ?" fallt t$m jener ein unb BeBet, 

„9teb'-fi bu son etnem, ber ba leBet?" — 



191 

For this there rose in Robert's breast, 

The huntsman, deadly hate ; 
His envious bosom never ceased 

"With malice to dilate. 
And to the Count, whose honest heart 
Was open to the traitor's art, 
And light would kindle, he drew nigh, 
To plant the seeds of jealousy. 

And thus with cunning words he spake : 

"O Count, I deem you blest : 
No jealous doubts your slumbers break, 

Nor haunt your golden rest. 
For you so chaste a spouse possess ! 
Discretion guards her loveliness ; 
And all the wiles of wooing youth 
Were vain against her virtue's truth." 

At this the Count with frowning brow 
Exclaimed — "What say'st thou, knave? 

I build no trust on woman's vow, 
Unstable as the wave. 

But though vain words their hearts allure, 

My lady's troth I hold secure ; 

Love's eye on her none dare to turn, 

Or woo the spouse of Count Savern." — 

The wily keeper speaks — " Tis clear, 

Contempt the fool deserves, 
Who, born to serve thee and to fear, 

Thus from his duty swerves, 
And to the lady he obeys, 
An eye of longing dares to raise." 
Trembling with wrath, the Count replies, 
" The villain, that hath dared it, dies." — 



192 

„3a bo$, tua^ after Slftunb etfMt, 
&a& Bdrg fid) metnem £errn! 
Dod), metl tfjr'g benn mit gleig tter^utft, 
©o unterbritcf tcfy'g gern" — 
„Du Bift beg £obeg, 23uBe, fprid) !" 
Sftuft jener ftreng unb fitrd^erltd), • 
„$3er $eBt bag 2htg ju ^unigonben?" — 
^un ja, idj fpredje son bem 23lonbem" 

„£r ift nidjt ^aftt^ ton ©ejWt," 
gdtyrt er mit 2lrglift fort, 
Snbem'g ben ©rafen tyeig unb fait 
Durc^riefett Bet bem SBort 
„3jt's mogttd), iperr? 3§r fa^'t eg nte, 
SBte er nur Shtgen $at fitr fte? 
S5ei Safe! eurer felBft ntdjt adjtet, 
Sfo ifjren ©tu$l gefejfelt fdjmacfytet?" 

„@efyt ba bte SSerfe, bie er fdjrteB 
Unb feine ©lutf) gefieft" — 
„©efte$t!" — „Unb fte urn ©egenlteB, 
Der freeze SuBe! fletjt 
Die gndb'ge ©rdftn, fanft unb tt>et<$, 
Slug Sftttleib moljl serBarg fte'g eudj ; 
yjlify reuet jefct, bag mir'g entfafyren, 
Denn, £err, mag tyaBt if)r gu Befatyren?" 

Da ritt in feineg 3orneg SButtj 
Der ©raf ing na^e Jpol^, 
2Bo t§m in $o$er Defen ®lufy 
Die gifenftufe fdjmol^ 
£ter ndljrten fritfi unb fpat ben S3ranb 
Die $nedjte mit gefd)dft'ger £anb; 
Der gunle fptitfyt, bie 23dlge Blafen 
5llg gait' eg, gelfen gu serglafen* 



192 

" And can it be ? the public tale 

To thee hath ne'er been told ? 
Yet what my Lord desires to veil, 

My lips shall ne'er unfold." — 
" Speak, wretch, or die ; what hast thou seen ?" 
Exclaims the Count with threatening mien, 
" Who hopes her favor to engage ?" — 
" I speak, sire, of the fair-haired page. 

" The stripling hath a pleasing form." 

Thus he deceives his lord, 
Whose blood by turns ran cold and warm, 

And thrilled at every word. 
" And have you truly never known, 
That he hath eyes for her alone, 
Of you at table hath no care, 
But languishes behind her chair ? 

"And in these verses is confessed 

His passion's bold desire " — 
" Confessed !" — " He hath the Countess pressed 

To love with equal fire. 
The lady is discreet and good, 
She feared for him your angry mood ; 
'Twere useless to repeat the tale ; 
For what to you could that avail ?" 

At this the Count grew wroth, and rode 

To where a forest rose, 
And fires in many a furnace glowed ; 

There melted iron flows ; 
Early and late with zealous speed 
The glaring flames his servants feed ; 
The sparks ascend ; the bellows play ; 
As though the rocks would melt away. 



193 

©eg SBafferS unb be3 $euerg $raft 

SSerbiinbet jtefjt man ^ter ; 

•Dag 9ftiiljtrab, son ber glutfj geraffr, 

Umtualgt ftdj fur tmb fiiv; 

■Die 2Qcr!c Happen: Sfadjt unb Jag, 

3m Xafte pod)t ber Jpammer Sdjtag, 

Unb biibfam son ben madjt'gen (Stretdjen 

2!ftu£ felbft bag Sifen ft$ errceidjen. 

Unb 3tt?eien ^nedjjren winfet er, 
. S3ebeuret fte unb fagt t 
„£>en erften, ben idj fertbe ^cr, 
Unb ber end) alfo fragt: 
„„£abt tfjr befolgt beg iperren SBort?"" 
©en werft mtr in bie Jpolle bort, 
©af; er ^u 2lfd)e gleidj sergef)e, 
Unb ifjn mein 2Iug nicfyt setter fetje!" 

£>e£j freut ftdj bag entmenfdjte $aar 

Sftit rofjer Jpenfergluft, 

©enn fut)[Iog, mie bag gtfen, war 

£>ag £er$ in i^rer Srufh 

Unb frifcfyer mit ber S3alge £au$ 

grbifeen fte beg Dfeng 25au$, 

Unb fdjttfen ftd> mit ^ftorbserlangen, 

&a$ Sobegopfer ju empfangen* 

©rauf 9toBert jum ©efellen fpridjt 
9ftit falfc^em Jpeud^elftMn: 
„5rifdj auf, ®efett, unb fdume m$r, 
©er £>err begef)ret bein." 
©er ^perr, ber fpricfyt ju ^rtbolin: 
„9ftu§t gtetdj $um Sifenijammer ^in, 
Unb frage mtr bie ^ne^te borten, 
Ob fte get^an nad) meinen 23orten?" 

€$ttfer$ fammtl. SBerfe. I. 13 



193 

There might you see their wondrous force 

Both fire and water blend ; 
To urge the wheel's revolving course 

Their power the torrents lend ; 
The works keep up their ceaseless chime ; 
The heavy hammers strike in time ; 
And e'en the iron pliant grows, 
Subdued and shaped by mighty blows. 

And at their master's beck there come 
Two servants from their task ; — 

u The first, whom I shall send from home 
To greet you, and to ask 

If ye've obeyed your master well, 

Him seize, and throw in yonder hell ; 

The flaming furnace be his grave ; 

I would not see again the slave." 

Infernal joy the demons feel, 

To hear that dark behest ; 
For hardened were their hearts like steel ; 

No mercy touched their breast. 
Aloft the smoking pile they raise ; 
The flames ascend with crackling blaze ; 
They thirst for crime, and long to slay, 
With murderous will, their destined prey. 

And Eobert then his comrade calls, 

Who nought of malice knew ; 
"Now haste thee to our master's halls ; 

He needs thy service true." 
The Count he spake to Fridolin, 
" Straight wend to where my forge's din 
Is heard ; and of my slaves inquire, 
If they've fulfilled their lord's desire." — 



194 

Unb jener fprtdjt: „£$ foil gefdje^n!" 
Unb mad)t (tdj flugs Berett. 
2)oc^ fmnenb MeiBt er plo^licfy fie^n: 
„DB fie mix md)t£ geBeut?" 
Unb ttor bie ©raftn ftetl't er ftdj: 
„£inaug gum jammer fd)icft man mt$J 
@o fag, mas fann id) bir serridjten; 
£)enn bir gefjoren meiue *PfItdjten»" 

SDarauf bie T)amt son (Sasern 
SSerfe^t mit fanftem Xon; 
„£)ie ^eil'ge 9ftejfe §ort' tdj gem, 
SDod) liegt mir franf ber ©ofjn ! 
@o gefje benn, mein ^inb, unb fprid) 
3n 3Inbadjt ein ©e£et fitr mid), 
Unb benfft bit reuig beiner ©itnben, 
©o la£ auc^ mid) bte ©nabe ftttben." 

Unb frof) ber ttielmttlfommnen $flid)t, 
yjlafyt er im giug fid) auf, 
Jpat nod) beS DorfeS (Snbe nidjt 
(£rretd)t im fd)neften £auf, 
£>a tout t$nt son bem ©lodenjtrang 
Jpetifd)lagenb bes ©elautes ^lang, 
2)as alle ©itttber, 1jod)6egnabet, 
3«m @acramente fefttidj labet 
„3)em tieBen ©otte tt>eid^ nidjt cms, 
ginVft bu i^n auf bem 2Beg !" — 
(£r [print's unb tritt ins ©otteStjauS; 
Sitin £aut ifl ^ter nodj reg'; 
£)enn urn bie Srnte war's, unb fjeig 
3m gelbe glitljt ber ©Quitter gleifu 
$ein Sfjorcjetjulfe war erfdjienen, 
2)ie Sfteffe funbig ju ftebienen* 



194 

" 'Tis mine," he answers, " to obey," 

And soon prepares to go ; 
Then paused — "Perchance my mistress may 

Have duties for me too." 
Before the Countess soon he bows : 
"Forth to the forge thy servant goes ; 
Thine is my duty ; lady, say, 
Thee can I serve upon the way ?" 

Thereat the Countess called him near, 

And spake with gentle tone : 
" The holy mass I long to hear ; 

But sickness wastes my son. 
Go then, my child, and on the way 
For me in still devotion pray ; 
With penitence thy sins efface ; 
And then for me entreat heaven's grace." 

The sacred charge was doubly sweet ; 

He rose and journeyed fast ; 
Yet through the neighboring village street 

He had not fairly passed, 
When on his ear distinctly fell 
The sacred curfew's mellow peal, 
Which summons sinners to repent, 
And taste the holy sacrament. 

"To fly from God were surely sin 

When in the road we meet."* 
He sees the church, and enters in, 

Yet hears few coming feet ; 
For 'twas the harvest-tide, and then 
Its toil detained the husbandmen ; 
None came the sacred hymns to sing, 
Or chant the mass, or censer swing. 



* See Note I. 



195 

Sntfdjlojfett if* er atfoBalb 

Unb madjt ben ©acriftan; 

ff t)a$;" f»rtd)t er, „ift fetn 2tufent$alt, 

2Ba3 forbert fytmmelan/' 

SMe ©tola unb bas Singulum 

£angt er bem $rtefter bienenb urn, 

23erettet fyurttg bie ©efctfe, 

©e^eiliget junt Dienfi ber SO^effe* 

Unb al$ er bieS mit gleijj getfjan, 

Zxitt er ate SJttnijtrant 

£)em $rtefter %um SUtar ooran, 

SDas 9fte|?budj in ber -Jpanb, 

Unb Inieet red)t3 unb fnieet little, 

Unb ift getodrtig JebeS 2Btnf$, 

Unb aU be3 @anctu$ SBorte famett, 

£)a ft^ellt er breimat Bet tern Sftamen. 

2)rauf aid ber §)rtefter fromm fidj netgt, 

Unb, jum 2lltar getoanbt, 

£)en ®ott, ben gegentodrt'gen, jetgt 

Sn fyodjerfjafcner £anb, 

2) a fitnbet e3 ber ©acriffrm 

SJttt ^ellem GHocffein fitngefttb art, 

Unb alles fniet unb fcfytdgt bie Sritfte, 

(Std) fromm oefreu^enb oor bem (Sfyri(to. 

(So not er jebeS oitnfttidj aus 
Sftit fd)netl getoanbtem (Sinn; 
2Bas 23ran$ tft in bem ©ottes^aus, 
@r ^at e$ aftes inn, 
Unb toirb nt$t mttbe M$ turn ©djluf, 
33t3 betm 33oM$cum £)ominu<3 
£>er g)riefter ^ur ©emetn fl<$ toenbet, 
2)ie tyeiPge £anblung fegnenb enbet 



195 

At once the page resolves to stay 

And serve as sacristan ; 
" Sure this," thought he, " is no delay ; 

First serve the Lord, then man." 
The belt and stole, which priests should wear, 
He hangs upon the priest with care ; 
The burnished cups he next displays, 
Preserved for use on holy days. 

When this with cautious hand was done, 

Before the priest he stands ; 
Devoutly to the shrine moves on, 

The mass-book in his hands. 
And to the right and left he wheels, 
And at the signal meekly kneels ; 
And when the words of " Sanctus " came, 
His bell thrice tinkled at the name. 

And when the priest with reverence bowed, 

And knelt before the shrine ; 
And high, with hands uplifted, showed 

The Eucharist divine ; 
The sacristan, observing well, 
Rings loudly with his little bell ; 
All cross their brows, their bosoms beat, 
And Christ the Saviour kneeling greet. 

Thus careful he performed each part 

With readiness and skill ; 
He knew the sacred rites by heart, 

And served with cheerful will ; 
Served till the close unwearied thus ; 
Till with " Yobiscum Dominus " 
The priest before the people bends, 
The holy service blessing ends. 



196 

£><* jhtft er jebeS toieberttm 

3n Drbnung fauoerlidj ; 

(Erft reintgt er bas £eiligtf)um, 

Unb bann etttfernt er fid), 

Unb ettt, in beg ©etotffens SRufy, 

SDen (Stfenptten fetter $it, 

©pridjt untertoegS, bie 3^^ ju fiiffett, 

3ftblf ^aternofter nod) im (Stiffen* 

Unb aid er raudjen ftefjt ben <S$tot 
Unb ftefjt bie ^nedjte fte^n, 
2)a raft er; „2£a3 ber ®raf ge&ot, 
3fyr -ftned)te, ift'S gefcfye^n?" 
Unb grtnfenb ^erren fie ben 9ftunb 
Unb beuten in be$ Dfens ©cfjlunb : 
„2)er ift befotgt nnb cutfgeljoben, 
•Der ©raf toirb feine Wiener looen*" 

S)te SIntioort oringt er fetnem £erm 
3n fdjneffem 2auf ^uriid* 
2113 ber tyn fommen fiel)t son fern, 
$aum trant er feinem 25 lid: 
„UngliidUd)er! mo fommft bn fjer?" — 
„23om (£ifenljammer*" — „9Hmmerme$r ! 
©o f)aft bn bid) im £auf oerfpatet?" — 
„£err, nnr fo lang, fete id) gefeetet." 

„£)enn, al3 son enrem 2fttgefi$t 

3d) ^ente ging, oer^ei^t! 

S)a fragt' id) erft, nadj nteiner $jli$t, 

23ei ber, bie mir gefeeut 

£)ie SKejfe, £err, befall fte mir 

3n f)6ren; gern getjord)! 1 td) iljr, 

Unb fprad) ber SRofenfran^e oiere 

giir ener £etf unb fiir bas i^re»" 



196 

Then where the priests their vessels kept, 

The sacred gear he laid ; 
"With busy hand the church he swept ; 

This done, no longer stayed ; 
But now, with conscience in repose, 
Straight to the forge with speed he goes ; 
And yet his heart still bids him say 
Twelve Pater-Nosters by the way. 



And near the workmen stand, 
"Have ye obeyed," the youth exclaims, 

" Our master's strict command ?" 
The hateful demons grin at this, 
And pointing to the hot ab}^ss, 
"We merit trust, the Count will own, 
For nothing's left of flesh or bone." 

And swift the nearest pathway home 

The page returning took ; 
But as his master saw him come, 

He gazed with doubting look. 
"Whence com'st thou, wretch ? I fain would 

know." — 
" I come from yonder forge." — "Not so ; 
Or hast thou loitered by the way ?" — 
"My lord, I tarried but to pray. 

" As from thy face my steps I bent 

This very morn, forgive, 
To ask my duty first I went 

To her, for whom I live. 
- Go, hear the mass, ' my lady said ; 
Her words I willingly obeyed ; 
And thrice my sacred beads went through 
For her salvation and for you." 



197 

3n ttefeS ©tauncn (Infct f)ter 

3>r ©raf, entfe^et fid) t 

„Unb tr>eld)e 2ltttn?ort nmrbe Mr 

21m (Sifenfyammer? fprid)!" — 

„£err, bunfel tt>ar ber Slebe ©inn, 

3um Dfen nries man tacfyenb §ht: 

2)er ijt Beforgt imb aufgeljoften, 

2)er ©raf n>irb feme Wiener toBen*" — 

„Unb SHoftert?" fattt ber ©raf t$'m ein, 
(£g it&erlauft t|n fait, 
„©ollt 1 er bir nidjt Begegnet fein? 
3d) fanbt' i$n bo$ gum 2Baib." — 
„£err, nid)t int SBalb, nidjt in ber glur 
gattb id) »on ^Robert elite ©pur." — 
„9htn," ruft ber ©raf unb ftet)t tternicfyter, 
„©ott felBft im £immel §at gertdjtetl" 

Unb gittig, tr-ie er nte gepflegt, 
9ttmmt er beS DteuerS £anb, 
SBringt ttjn ber ©attm, tief&ewegt, 
Die nidjts bason serftanb* 
„T>k$ $inb, lein (Suget ift fo rein, 
Sajjt^ eurer ipulb empfo^Ien fein ! 
SBie fd)limm toix and) fcerattjen maren, 
Sftit bem ift ©ott unb feine ©djaaren," 



Per $raf Don $aGsfmrej. 

3u Slacken in feiner $aiferpradjt, 
3m altertt)iimttd)en ©aale, 

<5a$ ^omg ^uboIpB^ ^eilige ma$t 
SBeim feftltdjen jhtmungsma^le* 



197 

The Count was wrapped in deep amaze, 

And horror o'er him fell ; 
" What answer, where the forges blaze, 

Was made thee ? Quickly tell." — 
"They pointed to the curling smoke, 
And darkly thus the ruffians spoke : 
1 We merit trust, the Count will own, 
For nothing's left of flesh or bone.' " 

"And Eobert ?" quick with curdling blood 

The Count impatient cried ; 
" This morn I sent him to the wood ; 

Hast thou his track espied ?" — 
"In field and forest, sire, I've been, 
But Robert's footsteps have not seen." — 
"Now," cries the Count, and looks aghast, 
"Our Cod himself hath sentence passed." 

The Count, unused to actions bland, 

Beyond his wont grew kind ; 
And grasps his faithful servant's hand, 

And hastes his spouse to find. 
" I pray thy favor for this child ; 
No angel is so undefiled ; 
The traitor's malice is revealed ; 
God and his hosts the guiltless shield." 

George Bancroft. 



THE COUNT OF HAPSBURG-, 

At Aix-la-Chapelle, in imperial array, 
In its halls renowned in old story, 

At the coronation banquet so gay, 
King Rudolf was sitting in glory. 
32- 



198 

SMe ©petfen trug ber 3>falggraf be3 £tfjem$, 
©5 fdjenfte ber S3o()me beS perlenben $3ein$, 

Unb atle tie 28dt)ter, bie fiektt, 
SBte ber ©rente (St) or um bte (Sonne ftdj ftelTt, 
Umftanben gefcfyafttg ben £errfd)er ber SSelt, 

Die SBiivbe beg 2tmte$ $u it&eiu 

Unb rings erfiittte ben t)ol)en falcon 

£)a3 SSol! in freub'gem ©ebrange; 
Saut mtfd)te fid) in ber $ofaunen ion 

2)a3 jaudj$enbe Siufen ber Sftenge; 
£)enn geenbigt nad) langem serberblicfyen ©treit 
SSar bie fatferlofe, bie fd)red(id)e 3eit, 

Unb ein Sftidjter wax mieber auf Gsrben* 
9lid)t Minb metyr roaltet ber eiferne ©peer, 
9ft djt fiirdjtet ber ©d)tr>ad)e, ber grieblicfye meljr 

£)e<3 9ftad)ttgen 33eute gu tterben. 

Unb ber .ftaifer crgreift ben gotbnen Spofal, 

Unb fpridjt mit gwfriebenett 33ttdfen : 
/; 2Bo^l gtanjet ba6 geji, it>ol)t pranget ba$ %fla% 

$Rtin fcniglidj ^>erg gu entgiiden ; 
£)od) ben ©anger sermtff id), ben Wringer ber Suft, 
£>er mit fuj?em ^lang mir bewege bie SBrujl 

Unb mit gottltdj ert)abenen Se^ren* 
©o t)ab' ictys get)alten son 3«genb an, 
Unb was id) ate fitter gepflegt unb get§an> 

Wifyt witt i<$'a aU ^aifer entbeljren," 

Unb ftef)M in ber giirften umgebenben $rei3 
£rat ber ©anger im langen £alare| 

3$m glangte bie Sode ftlberweis, 
©ebletd)t son ber giille ber 3a^re. 

„©itjjer 2Bofyl(aut fc^taft in ber ©aiten ®otb, 

£>er ©anger ftngt son ber Sftinne ©olb, . 



198 

The meats were served up by the Palsgrave of Khine, 
The Bohemian poured out the bright sparkling wine, 

And all the Electors, the seven, 
Stood waiting around the world-governing One, 
As the chorus of stars encircle the sun, 

That honor might duly be given. 

And the people the lofty balcony round 

In a throng exulting were filling ; 
While loudly were blending the trumpets' glad sound, 

And the multitude's voices so thrilling ; 
For the monarchless period, with horror rife, 
Had ended now, after long baneful strife, 

And the earth had a lord to possess her. 
No longer ruled blindly the iron-bound spear, 
And the weak and the peaceful no longer need fear 

Being crushed by the cruel oppressor. 

And the emperor speaks with a smile in his eye, 

While the golden goblet he seizes : 
" With this banquet in glory none other can vie, 

And my regal heart well it pleases ; 
Yet the minstrel, the bringer of joy, is not here, 
Whose melodious strains to my heart are so dear, 

And whose words heavenly wisdom inspire ; 
Since the days of my youth it hath been my delight, 
And that which I ever have loved as a knight, 

As a monarch I also require." 

And behold ! 'mongst the princes who stand round 
the throne 

Steps the bard, in his robe long and streaming, 
While, bleached by the years that have over him flown, 

His silver locks brightly are gleaming : 
"Sweet harmony sleeps in the golden strings, 
The minstrel of true love's reward ever sings, 



199 



©r pretfet baa £od)fte, baa 33ejte, 
2Sa^ ba^ iper^ ftdj rounfdjt, was ber (Sinn Bege^rt; 
2)odj [age, maa ift bea $atfer$ trertt) 

2In feinem t)errtid)ften gejie?" — 

„9ltdjt geftieten tt>erb' id) bent ©anger/' fprtd^t 

3>r £errfd)er mit tadfyetnbem SJtunbe, 
,fix ftetjt in bea gro^eren £erren *PfIid)t, 

@r ge!)ord)t ber getnetenben ©tnnbe* 
2Bie in ben Siiften ber ©turmnrinb faufr, 
Sttan »eijj nidjt son mannen er fommt wnb tiraujt, 

2Bte ber Cued ana ijerborgenen STiefen, 
(So bea ©angera £ieb ana bent 3nnern fdjattt 
Unb n?ec!et ber bnnfeln ©efnt)te d5etr>att, 

£)ie tnt ^erjen wnnberbar fdjtiefem" 

Unb ber ©anger rafct) in bte ©aiten fa tit 

Unb beginnt fte mad) tig %u fd)tagen: 
„9Iufa 2Baibn>erf fyinana ritt ein ebler ipetb, 

£)en flitd)tigen ©emSfcod ^n jagem 
31)m folgte ber Rnapp mit bem 3agergefdjo£, 
Unb aU er auf feinem ftattticfyen Sftof 

3tt eine 2tn fommt geritten, 
(Sin ©todtetn $ort er erftingen fern; 
(Sin Priefter war' a mit bem Sett) bea iperm; 

SSoran lam ber Hefner gefd)ritten." 

„Unb ber ©raf aur (Erbe ftdj neiget $tn, 

%)a$ $aupt mit 3>mntt) entblojjet, 
Qn seretjren mit glanbigem ©fjrijtertjtmt, 

$Qa§ a tie 9ftenfd)en erlofet* 
(Sin 23ad)tein after raufdjte burdja $etb, 
SSon bea ©te§6adja rei^enben gtnttjen gefdjmetlt, 

T>a& Jemmte ber SSanberer Srittej 



199 

And adores what to virtue has tended — 
What the bosom may wish, what the senses hold dear ; 
But say, what is worthy the Emperor's ear 

At this, of all feasts the most splendid ?" 

"Ko restraint would I place on the minstrel's own 
choice," 

Speaks the monarch, a smile on each feature ; 
" He obeys the swift hour's imperious voice, 

Of a far greater lord is the creature. 
For, as through the air the storm- wind on speeds, — 
One knows not from whence its wild roaring pro- 
ceeds — 

As the spring from hid sources up-leaping, 
So the lay of the bard from the inner heart breaks — 
While the might of sensations unknown it awakes, 

That within us were wondrously sleeping." 

Then the bard swept the chords with a finger of might, 

Evoking their magical sighing : 
u To the chase once rode forth a valorous knight, 

In pursuit of the antelope flying. 
His hunting-spear bearing, there came in his train 
His squire ; and when o'er a wide-spreading plain 

On his stately steed he was riding, 
He heard in the distance a bell tinkling clear, 
And a priest, with the host, he saw soon drawing near, 

While before him the sexton was striding. 

" And low to the earth the Count then inclined, 
Bared his head in humble submission, 

To honor, with trusting and Christian-like mind, 
What had saved the whole world from perdition. 

But a brook o'er the plain was pursuing its course, 

That, swelled by the mountain stream's headlong 
force, 
Barred the wanderer's steps with its current ; 



200 

Unb Betfett Tegt jener bag Sacrament, 
SSon ben §it§en giet)t er bie <3djut)e Befyenb, 
Damit er bag 25ad)lem burd^ritte," 

„2Bag fd&affji bu? rebet ber ©raf itjn an, 

2)er itjn sermunbert Betradjtet. 
£err, id) roalte gu einem fterBenben Sfttann, 

£)er nad) ber £tmmetgfoft fdjntadjtet; 
Unb ba idj midj nafye beg 23adjeg ©teg, 
Da §ftt itjn ber ftromenbe ©ie£ 6ac^ Jtnweg 

3nt ©trubet ber SBelten geriffen* 
Drum ba§ bem Sed^enben merbe fein $tii f 
(go wilt id) bag SBaffertein jejjt in (Sit 

£)urd)tt>aten mit nadenben gufen*" 

„Da fe£t itjn ber ©raf auf fein ritterlidj $ferb 

Unb reid^t itjm bie ^rdc^tigen 3aume, 
Dafj er laBe ben ^ranfen, ber fein Bege^rt, 

Unb bie tjetttge $Pftidt)t rttc^t t>erfdnme» 
Unb er fetBer anf feineg ^nappen £t)ier 
SBergnuget nod) wetter beg 3ageng 23egier; 

Der 5lnbre bie £Reife aottfitfyret, 
Unb am nadj(iett WtoxQtn, mit banfenbem Stiff, 
Da Brtngt er bem ©rafen fein 3^of guriid, 

23efd)eiben am 3«get gefiitjret" 

„9tt$t ttotte bag ©ott, rief mit Demuttjftntt 
©er ©raf, bag gum ©treiten unb 3agen 

Dag Sftojji id) befdjrttte furbert)iu, 
Dag meinen ©djopfer getragen! 

Unb magft bu'g ntdjt Ijaoen $u eignem ©eminnjl, 

©o BletBt eg gewibmet bem gotrttdjen Dienftl 
Deun idj tjaB 1 eg bem ja gegeBen, 



200 

So the priest on one side the blest sacrament put, 
And his sandal with nimbleness drew from his foot, 
That he safely might pass through the torrent. 

" ' What wouldst thou ?' the Count to him thus began, 

His wondering look toward him turning : 
' My journey is, lord, to a dying man, 

Who for heavenly diet is yearning ; 
But when to the bridge o'er the brook I came nigh, 
In the whirl of the stream, as it madly rushed by 

With furious might, 'twas uprooted. 
And so, that the sick the salvation may find 
That he pants for, I hasten with resolute mind 

To wade through the waters barefooted. ' 

"Then the Count made him mount on his stately 
steed, 

And the reins to his hands he confided, 
That he duly might comfort the sick in his need, 

And that each holy rite be provided. 
And himself, on the back of the steed of his squire, 
Went after the chase to his heart's full desire, 

While the priest on his journey was speeding : 
And the following morning, with thankful look, 
To the Count once again his charger he took, 

Its bridle with modesty leading. 

" ' God forbid that in chase or in battle,' then cried 

The Count with humility lowly, 
' The steed I henceforward should dare to bestride 

That hath borne my Creator so holy ! 
And if, as a guerdon, he may not be thine, 
He devoted shall be to the service divine, 

Proclaiming His infinite merit, 



201 

Son bent t$ (Et)re unb irbifdjes Out 
3u Sefjen trage unb Setb unb Slut 
Unb ©eele unb 2ttf)em unb Men," 

„<5o mog' aucfj ®ott, bcr atlmadjttge iport, 

2)er baa gfefyen ber @d)ir>ad)en erpret, 
3u S^ren euc^ oringen $ier unb bort, 

<&o nue tfyr ic^t t§n geefyret 
3tjr feib etn macfctiger ©raf, Befamtt 
2)urcfy rttterlidj SBalten im ©c^metjerrattb; 

Sudj Mitten fe<§3 TieMidje £od)ter* 
<5o mogen fie, rtef er Begeiftert au3, 
©ed)3 kronen eudj Bringen in euer ipauS, 

Unb glangcn bie fpatften ®efdjled)ter!" 

Unb mtt fmnenbem £aupt faf ber $aifer ba, 

2H3 bacBf er sergangener 3 e ^ e n; 
Sefct, ba er bem ©anger in3 Singe fa 5, 

£)a ergretft if)n ber SBorre 33ebeutctu 
2)ie 3iige beS §)rtefter£ erfennt er fdjnelT, 
Unb serMrgt ber Sfyranen (rurgenbcn £>uett 

3n be3 Mantels purpurnen fatten, 
Unb alleS Bltcfte ben ^aifer an 
Unb erfannte ben ©rafen, ber bas get^an, 

Unb Serc^rte $a§ gottlidje SSaltem. 

STntnerfung. — Stfdjubt, ber ixni biefe STnefbote uberltefert f>at, 
zttffylt aui), bag ber 5>rtefter, bem btefeS mit bem ©rafen son §abibnr$ 
begegnet, nadjber Saplan bei cent $urfurften sen Stains getsorben unb nid)t 
ioenig baju beigetragen iaie, bet ber nddjiien $aifermaf)I, bie auf bas grcfje 
interregnum erfotgte, bie ©ebanfen beo £urfitrjten auf ten ©rafen Son 5pab$* 
burg ju rtaVen. — Siir S)ie, tseldje bie @efd)id)te jener 3eit fennen, bemerfe 
id) nod), bajj id) redit gut tt?et§, bag Socmen (em gtjaint bet 9tubofy&$ J^aifer- 
Irbnung ntdjt ausiibte. 



201 

From whom I each honor and earthly good 
Have received in fee, and my body and blood, 
And my breath, and my life, and my spirit. 5 

" ' Then may God, the sure rock, whom no time can 
e'er move, 

And who lists to the weak's supplication, 
For the honor thou pay'st Him, permit thee to prove 

Honor here, and hereafter salvation ! 
Thou'rt a powerful Count, and thy knightly command 
Hath blazoned thy fame thro' the Switzer's broad 
land ; 

Thou art blest with six daughters admired ; 
May they each in thy house introduce a bright crown, 
Filling ages unborn with their glorious renown ' — 

Thus exclaimed he in accents inspired." 

And the Emperor sat there all- thoughtfully, 

While the dream of the past stood before him ; 
And when on the minstrel he turned his eye, 

His words' hidden meaning stole o'er him ; 
For seeing the traits of the priest there revealed, 
In the folds of his purple-dyed robe he concealed 

His tears as they swiftly coursed down. 
And all on the Emperor wondringly gazed, 
And the blest dispensations of Providence praised, 

For the Count and the Caesar were one. 

Edgar Alfred JBowring, 



Note. — iEgidius Tschudi, a Swiss, the chronicler of this anecdote, 
also relates, that the priest, who had the adventure with the Count of 
Hapsburg, afterwards became chaplain to the Elector of Mayence; 
and helped, not a little, at the next Imperial election, after the 
great interregnum, to direct the latter's thoughts to the Count of 
Hapsburg. For the benefit of those acquainted with the history of 
those times, let me add, I know full well, that the King of Bohemia 
did not exercise the functions of his electoral office, as cup-bearer, at 
Rudolf's coronation. 



202 


per $cm&fcM. 


23or feinem £5rcengarten, 


£)a3 $ampfj>iel gu erroarten, 


©ag ^onig grang, 


Unb urn tfjn bte ©ro§en ber $rone, 


Unb rings auf Ijofyem Falcone 


SDte ©amen in fdyonem $ranj. 


Unb trie er nunft mit bem finger, 


SIttf ttjnt fid) ber roeite 3n>inger, 


Unb fjtnein mit Bebacfyttgem ©djritt 


(Sin £on?e tritt, 


Unb ftefit ftdj ftumm 


Stings urn, 


9ftit langem ©af)nen, 


Unb fdmttelt bie mfyntn, 


Unb ftrecft bie ©iieber, 


Unb legt fldj nieber. 


Unb ber ^onig nunft nueber, 


2) a of net ftcfr Be^enb 


Sin jtuetteS £l)or, 


$)araus rennt 


SDftt nulbem ©prnnge 


©in STiger tyersor, 


SBte ber ben Somen erfdjaut, 


S3riiat er laut, 


(5d)Iagt mit bem @d)toeif 


(£men furdjtoaren SMf, 


Unb retfet bie 3 un 3^ 


Unb im $reife fcfteu 


Umge^t er ^m Sen 



202 



THE GLOYE. 

At his Lion-garden gate, 
The Death-sport to await, 

Sat Gallia's King. 
High Nobles his presence graced, 
And, in rows above them placed, 

Pair Dames — a goodly ring. 

He hath raised his finger in token, 
And the answering cave hath spoken ; 
And a Lion strode through the gate 
"With step sedate, 

And, without a sound, 

Stared round — 
"With a yawn, as of one awaking, 
His loose locks shaking, 
Stretches his limbs — and then — 
Lays him down again. 



The King gives another token — 
And a second gate hath spoken, 

With answering swing ; 
Then a Tiger, for sport 
To the royal Court, 

Makes a spring. 
When the Lion he explored, 
Loud he roared ; 
With his tail, as he swayed, 
A dread circle he macle ; 
And lolled out his tongue, 

And with wary stride, 

At distance wide, 



203 

©rtmmtg fdjnurrenb, 
S)rauf ftrecft er ftdj murrenb 
Qux @citc nieber* 

Unb ber $onta, ttinft ttteber, 
S)a fpeit bag boppelt geoffnete $av.$ 
3tt>ei Seoparben auf einmat au$, 
2)te jriirjett mit mut^iger .ftampfkegter 
2fttf bag £igertl)ier; 

£)ag padt fie mtt feinen grimmigen £a£ett, 
Unb ber £eu mtt ©eorufl 
Slid) tet ft* auf, ba tturb'g ftiU; 
Unb ^erum im $m<3, 
SSon 9ftorbfudjt tjei§, 
£agern ftcfy bie graulidjen $a£etu 

£>a fatft yon beg 2iltang Slanb 
(Sin ^panbfd)u^ son fcfyoner £anb 
3tr>if$en ben Siger unb ben Seutt 
Smitten §tnem* 

Unb £U Slitter SMorgeg, fpottenber SBeif, 
SSenbet ftd) graulein ^unigunb i 
„.£>err Slitter, ift eure £iebe fo §etf , 
S3ie ttjr mir'g f&toort ju jeber ©tunb, 
(Si, fo f)ebt mir ben £anbfdju$ auf!" 

Unb ber Slitter, in fcfyneHem Sauf, 
(Steigt ^inao in ben furdjtfcar'tt Stinger 
Stttt feftem ©djritte, 
Unb aug ber Unge^euer SSJMtte 
Sftimmt er ben £anbfd)utj mit ledem finger, 

Unb mtt Srftaunen unb mit ©rauen 
<&t§m'v bie Slitter unb Sbelfrauen, 



203 

Bound the Lion he paced, grim scowling, 
Then laid him growling 
At the Lion's side. 

And the King raised his finger anew, 
And wide open the double gate flew ; 
"Which two Leopards at once gave to view — 

They rush with eager rage 

The Tiger to engage ; 
Who meets their assault with his terrible claws. 
Then the Lion, with a roar, 
Raised him up — and again it was still as before ; 

And all those wild cats, hot 

For slaughter, on the spot 
Lie crouching, in deadly pause. 

And now from the Balcony wall 
A fair hand a glove lets fall. 
The Lion and Tiger between, 
In the midst 'tis seen. 

And the Lady Cunigund turned her there 
To the Knight Delorges with a mocking air — 
"Sir Knight — if your Love be so mighty a power, 
As you swore to me in that tender hour, 
Go fetch me my glove where 'tis placed." 

And the Knight in an instant's haste 
Hath into the fearful space descended, 
And hath snatched the glove with his finger bold, 
And grasps it firm in his iron hold, 
And bears it aloft in the air extended. 

And Knights and high Dames looked shuddering on 
In mute amaze till the feat was done ; 



204 

Uttb gelaffett brtitgt er ben iparibf^itfj gurudf* 
Da fdjallt tljm feitt Sob aws jebent Sftunbe, 
2lber mtt gartlid^cm Siebegblid — 
(£r oerijetfjt i$m fetn nafye3 ©litil — 
Smpfangt it)tt grauleut jhtnigtmbe* 
Uttb er toirft it)r ben £attbfcfytttj ins ®eft$t: 
,/Dett £>anf, 2)ame, begefyr 1 id) nidjtl"- 
Unb »erla$t fie jur felben ©tuttbe. 



pa* Derfdjfcicrfc ^t^ 5U $at0. 

(Sin Sitngung, ben beS 2Biffett3 fjetfjer Durjl 
Iftad) ©ais in 2Iegt)ptett trteb, ber $riefter 
©efyeime 2Bei$$eit gu erlerttert, fyattt 
©cfyort tnandjett ©rab mtt fcfyrteftem ©eifi burnetii; 
©tets rig vfytt fetn c gorfcfybegterbe toeiter, 
Uttb lawttt befattftigte ber £terop()attt 
©en ttttgebttlbig ©trebettbetu „$3a3 $afc' fa$; 
SOBerm id) ntdjt allesS Jjabe," fpradj ber bungling, 
„®ibt^ etwa^ter em SBettiger tmb 3ftel)r? 
3ft beitte 2Ba§r§eit, toic ber ©mite ©litcf, 
Sftur erne ©ttmme, bie man grower, ffeirter 
35efi£ett tamt wnb immer bodj bejt£t? 
3ft fie ntdjt eitte eirtg'ge, ungetJjetfte? 
9Hmm eincn Ion aits einer £armottte, 
9hmm eitte garbe au$ bent ^egettbogert, 
Uttb ato, toas bit 'bkiU, ift tticbts, fo latta, 
£)a3 fdjotte 2III ber £otte fetyft u«b gatbetu" 

3ttbem fte eittjt fo fpradjett, jrattbett jte 
3rt einer etnfamen 3^otonbe ftiff, 
2Bo eitt oerfcfyteiert SBtlb oott 3iiefettgrof e 
2)em 3itttglittg itt bie $ugen pet, SSerwunbert 



204 

And he brought back the glove with a tranquil air. 
Then from every mouth loud plaudits arose — 
But the smile fair Cunigund bestows 

Seems to promise whatever of bliss most rare 
Can be felt and shared in Love's embrace. 
And — he tossed the glove in the Lady's face — 
"Ko guerdon, Lady, I seek of thee." 
So that same hour the Knight was free. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq. , F. S. A. 



THE VEILED STATUE AT SAIS. 

A youth, by ardent thirst of knowledge moved 

To seek Egyptian Sa'is, there to learn 

The Priesthood's sacred lore, with eager haste 

Had many a stage already posted o'er ; 

Still by the inquisitive spirit onward drawn ; 

And scarcely might the Hierophant appease 

The impatient bold Aspirant. — "What have I gained, 

"Whilst I possess not all ?" — thus spake the youth. 

"What boots it here, a lesser or a more ? 

Say — is thy Truth, like to the joys of Sense, 

Only a sum, to be received in larger 

Or smaller measure, so we but receive it ? 

Is it not One ? — alone — and undivided ? 

Take but one note from the harmonious scale — 

Take but one color from the iEtherial bow — 

And all that rests to thee is nothing worth, 

Wanting the fulness of the Beauteous Whole." 

As thus they converse held, they stood beneath 

The temple's lonely dome in still repose, 

When a veiled statue of gigantic bulk 

First met the young man's eyes. Wondering he looked 



205 

SHtft er ben giitjrer an uttb fprtdjt: „2Bag ijVg, 
£)ag Winter btefem ©deleter fid) serBirgt?" — 
„£)ie Ba^rl)eit/' ift tie 2tntmort— „2Bie?" ruft jener 
„^a^ SBafyrljett ftreb' id) ja attettt, uttb biefe 
©erabe ift eg, bte man mir »er§iitft ?" 

„£)as ma(|e mit ber ©ottt)ett au$," tterfe^t 
£)er jpieropfyattt „«ftettt ©terBttdjer, fagt fte, 
SRitdt biefen ©d)leier, Big idj fetfcfi itjtt IjeBe* 
Uttb it>er mit uttgeft>eU)ter, fd)ulb'ger ipattb 
£)ett 1)eiligert, yerBohtett fritter IjeBt, 
£)er, fpric^t bte ®ottf)eit" — „9httt ?" — „£)er fte^t 

bie Saf^eit" 
„(Sitt feltfamer DraMfprudj ! £)u felBft, 
S)u ^dtteft atfo ttiematg itjtt getjoBett?" — 
„3d)? $3at)rlidj tttdjt! Uttb to ax and) ttie ba^tt 
SSerfuc^t." — „T)a$ faff idj ttid>h SBenn son ber 

SBafjrljeit 
9htr btefe bthttte ©djeibettattb mid) trettttte" — 
„Uttb eitt ©efe£," fattt itjm fetn gittjrer ettu 
„©ett>id)ttger, meitt @o$n, alg bu eg meittft, 
3ft biefer bittttte %Ux — fur beitte £attb 
Qtoax leidjt, bodj centnerfd)tt>er fitr bettt ©ewtjfeiu" 

£>er 3ttttgltttg gittg gebattfettttotf ttadj ipaufej 
3t)m raubt beg SMffettg Brettttettbe 33egier 
£)ett ©djlaf, er to'dl^t ftcB glittjettb auf bem 2ager 
Unb rafft fid) auf urn 9JUtterttad)L 3"^ ^empet 
gtit)rt uttfreiftnllig tt)tt ber fd)eue STrttt 
£eidjt tt>arb eg it)m, bie Waiter 3U erftetgetn 
Unb mitten in bag 3*tnre ber ^otottbe 
£ragt ein Betjergter ©pruttg bett 2Bagettbetn 

ipier ftel)t er nun, Uttb grauetwotl umfattgt 
£)ett Sittfameti bie leBetttofe ©title, 



205 

Towards his guide, and spake — " Say, what is that 

Which by this veil is hidden from our sight ?" 

" Truth " — was the answer. " How," exclaimed the 

youth, 
"For Truth, and Truth alone, I've ever striven ; 
And this is that which now a veil conceals ?" 

" Settle this difference with the God," replies 

The Hierophant, — "ISTo mortal man, he saith, 

May stir this veil, till I myself uplift it : 

And whosoe'er with sacrilegious hand 

Shall sooner raise The Holy — The Forbidden — 

He, said the Godhead "—"Well !"—" Shall Truth 

behold." 
"Strange Oracle ! most strange ! But thou, thyself, 
Say, didst thou never lift it ?" — "I ? — Good sooth, 
No, nor was ever tempted." — "There, indeed, 
I comprehend you not. — For if from Truth 
Nought but this thin partition-veil divides me," — 
" Say also, a Decree " — rejoins his guide. 
"More potent than thou deemest of, my son, 
Is that thin vestment. To thy touch tho' light, 
'Tis for thy conscience a full Hundredweight." 

The young man, thoughtful, to his home returned. 
The burning thirst of knowledge banished sleep ; 
Restless upon his fevered couch he rolled, 
And started up at midnight — To the temple 
Impulsively his trembling footsteps led. 
For him an easy task to scale the wall, 
And thence with one bold spring to clear the way 
To the innermost of that Rotunda's gloom. 

Here now he stands, and silence wraps him round, 
Awful and vast, as of the lonely tomb ; 



206 

SDfe nur ber SEHtte fjotjler SMeber^ali 
3n ben gefyeimen ©ritftett nnterbrtcfyt. 
SSon often bnrcfy ber Jlnppel Deffnnng mirft 
£)er 9ftonb ben bletcfyen, ftlberblanen @d)ein, 
ttnb fnrd)tbar, tote ein gegenmarfger ©ott, 
(Srglangt bnrd) beS ©etoolbeS $tnfternij[e 
3n ifjrem langen ©dieter bie ©eftatt 

(£r trttt ^inan mtt ungetoiffem <5<$rltt; 
<5d)on toil! bie freeze £anb bas ipeUige berttfyrett, 
S)a gudt eS tyeig nnb fn()l bnrd) fettt ©efcein 
ttnb (loft tfyn toeg mtt unfldjtoarem 2lrme» 
ttnglMicfyer, toaS toitlft bu tl)nn? fo rnft 
3n feinem 3nnern eine trene ©timrne. 
SSerfndjen ben Slll^eiltgen toitlft bn? 
$ein ©terMtdjer, fprad? bes DrafetS 9ftnnb, 
S^iicft biefen ©deleter, bis id) felbft ifyn f)ebe«, 
S)o4 fefcte ntdjt berfelbe 9ttnnb ^tit^u: 
SKkr biefen ©cf)leter tyefct, foil 2Ba$r$ett fc^anen? 
„<5ei Winter t§m, toas tottU 3$ |>eb' i^n auf/' 
(£r rnft'S mtt lanter ©timm': „3dj tt>iff fie f$anen»" 

©djanen! 
©etlt if)m ein langeS (£d)o fpottenb nadj* 

(£r (print's unb tyat ben ©d^leier anfgebedt 
„yiun," fragt ijjr, „nnb toa$ get^te fie tfym fyier?" 
3$ toetg eS nidjt. i8efutnnng£l"o<3 nnb Bfetc^, 
@o fanben ityn am anbern £ag bie ^rtefter 
5lm gnfgcftell ber 3jt3 auSgeflredt. 
$3a$ er attba gefefyen nnb erfafyren, 
$at feine 3 un 3 e ^^ e befannt. 5lnf etoig 
2Bar feinem SebenS ipeiterfett bat)in, 
3§n rig ein tiefer ®ram gnm frutyen @rabe* 
„2Be§ bem," bie$ toar fein toarnnngSooHes SBort, 



206 

Where, save the hollow echoings of his feet, 
Nought breaks the secret chamber's still repose. 
From over head the moonlight's silvery blue 
Flings its pale radiance thro' the windowed dome, 
And, dreadful as a present Deity, 
Gleams through the darkness of the vaulted roof, 
In its long drapery veiled, the shapeless form. 

Forward he presses with unconscious step — 
Already his rash hand has touched the hallowed veil. 
It courses, hot and cold, thro' every vein ; 
And an invisible arm the deed repels, 
"Unfortunate! what wouldst thou?" — thus ex- 
claimed 
The faithful monitor within — " Wouldst tempt 
The All Holy V Hath not th' Oracle proclaimed, 
No mortal man may dare to touch the veil 
Till I myself uplift it ?"— " But the same 
Unerring voice, hath it not likewise said, 
4 Whoso dares raise the veil, shall Truth behold ?> 
Be what there may behind, I dare to lift it !" — 
(With louder voice he cries) — u I will behold her !" 
" Behold her!"— 
In lengthened accents echo mocking cries. 

No sooner spoke, he hath the veil upraised. 

And now you ask, what there did he behold ? 

I know not — All I've heard, next morning came 

Thither the priests, who pale and senseless found him 

Stretched out on Isis' pedestal. What there 

He saw, or what experienced, hath no tongue 

Ever disclosed. But all his Light of Life 

Thenceforth was vanished, and deep-rooted sorrow 

Hurried him fast to an untimely grave. 

" Woe to the man," — these were his warning words 



207 

SBerttt wngepinne $rager in t$tt brangen, 

„S>efj tern, ber ju ber SBatjr^it geftt burcfy €>$utb 

„©ie wirt il;m nimmermefyr erfrenlidj fein." 



3>te ^{jeifmtg ber ^r&e. 

SMjmt ^iu bie SBcIt! rief 3eit3 son fetncit ipo^ett 
£)en 9ftenfd)en gu; neljmt, fie foil euer fettt* 

(5n$ fdjenf tdj fie jnm Srfc 1 nnb em'gen Mjen; 
£>odj tljetlt eu<^ fcriifcerltdj barehu 

©a eilt, mas ipanbe tjat, (tdj ein^nrtdjten, 
(?y regre fid) geftfuiftig 3nng nnb 2ttr. 

£)er $(cfermann griff nad) be3 gelbeS $riid)ten, 
£)er 3un!er Birfdjte bnrdj ben 2£alb* 

£)er ^anfmann nimmt, mas feine ©peidkr fajfen, 
£)er 2i"ot maljlt fid) ben ebeln ^irnemein, 

£>er .ftonig fperrt bie 23riiden nnb bie ©trafjett 
Unb fpracfy : ber JSityriti ijt mem. 

©an^ fpat, nad)bem bie ^eilnng langft gefdjetjen, 
9caf)t ber $oer, er tarn an3 meiter gem': 

2ldj, ba mar itoeratl ntd)t3 meljr $u fetjen, 
Unb alle3 (jatte feinen iperrn* 

2BeJj mirl fo foil benn id) allein son alien 
SSergeffen fein, id), betn'getrenfter ©oljn? 

(So liefjj er lant ber ^fage S^uf erfdjatlen, 
Unb marf fid) §in oor 3ooi$ £t)ron«. 

SSenn bn int Sanb ber Sranme bid) ser^eiler, 
SBerfe^tber ©ott, fo fjabre nidjt mit mtr. 

SSo marft bn benn, aU man bie 2Mt getljetfet? 
3dj mar, fpradj ber $oet, Bet bir* 



207 

To eager questioners, when urged to tell — 

"Woe to the man who Truth would reach through sin. 

He never shall enjoy her beauteous face." 

John Herman Merioale, Esq., F.S.A. 



THE PARTITION OF THE EARTH. 

"Here, take the world !" cried Jove, from his high 
heaven, 

To mortals — " Take it ; it is yours, ye elves ; 
'Tis yours, for an eternal heirdom given ; 

Share it like brothers 'mongst yourselves." 

Then hastened every one himself to suit, 
And busily were stirring old and young — 

The Earmer seized upon the harvest fruit ; 
The Squire's horn through the woodland rung. 

The Merchant grasped his costly warehouse loads, 
The Abbot chose him noble pipes of wine, 

The King closed up the bridges and the roads, 
And said, "The tenth of all is mine." 

Quite late, long after all had been divided, 
The Poet came, from distant wandering ; 

Alas ! the thing was everywhere decided, — 
Proprietors for everything ! 

" Ah, woe is me ! shall I alone of all 
Forgotten be — I, thy most faithful son ?" 

In loud lament he thus began to bawl, 
And threw himself before Jove's throne. 

"If in the land of dreams thou hast delayed," 
Replied the God, "then quarrel not with me ; 

Where wast thou when division here was made ?" 
"I was," the Poet said, " with thee ; — 



208 



Sftettt Shtge fjtng an beinem Slngeftdjte, 
2ln beineg £immels £armonte mein D^r; 

SBergeif) bent ©eifte, ber, son beinem Sidjte 
23eraufdjt, ba$ Srbifdje sjerlor! 

28a3 t$im ? fprtcfyt 3eu3, — bte SBett tft meggegebeu, 
£)er £erbft, bie 3agb, ber Sftarft ift nidjt me$r metn. 

SDittjl bu in nteinem iptmmel mit mix leben, 
©o oft bu fommft, er fott bir offert fein. 



pas ^dbdjen aits &er gtrem&e. 

3n einem £§al Bet armen -Jpirten 
©rfd)ien mit jebem jungen 3a$r, 
©obatb bie erften Serpen fcfymirrten, 
(Sin Mbdjen fcfyon unb munberbar* 

©te mar ntdjt in bent SEIjat geboren, 
SJtan tt>u§te nic^t, moljer jte lam; 
Unb fcfynefl mar t^re ©pur serloren, 
©obalb bas Sftcibdjen 3lbf$ieb na^nu 

S3efettgenb mar itjre Wafy, 
Unb afte Jpergen murben meit; 
£)od) eine SGitrbe, etne £6i)e 
(Sntfernte bie SSertrauticfyfeit. 

©te bracfyte S51umen mtt unb $rit$te, 
©ereift auf einer anbern gtur, 
3n einem anbern ©onnenltdjte, 
3n einer aJMiicfyetn Sftatur. 

Unb ttjeitte jebem tint ©abe, 
Dent griidjte, jenem 931unten au$ 
SDer ^tingling unb ber (SretS am &tabt, 
din jeber ging befdjenft nadj $au$. 



208 

" Mine eyes hung on thy countenance so bright, 
Mine ear drank in thy Heaven's harmony ; 

Forgive the soul, which, drunken with thy Light, 
Forgot that Earth had aught for me." 

' ' What shall I do ? " said Zeus ; ' ' the world's all given ; 

The harvest, chase, or market, no more mine ; 
If thou wilt come and live with me in Heaven, 

As often as thou eom'st, my home is thine." 

C. P. Cranch. 



THE STRANGER MAIDEN. 

By shepherds poor, in lonely dwelling, 
With every opening year was seen, 

When first the sky-lark's notes were swelling, 
A maid of fair and wondrous mien. 

True, she was not that valley's daughter, 
And whence her coming no one knew, 

Nor trace remained for those who sought her 
Whene'er that maiden bade adieu. 

Before her every heart expanding, 
Her very neighborhood was blest ; 

And yet her state — her air commanding — 
Familiar access still repressed. 

Each time she came with fruit and flowers 

Matured afar in foreign plains, 
Beneath whose genial sun and showers 

A more abundant nature reigns. 

To all around a portion sparing, 
She dealt her fruits and flowerets gay ; 

And young and old, her bounty sharing, 
Alike each gifted, went his way. 



209 

lEMfffommen tr-aren atte ©afle; 
£)odj nat)te ftdj eitt ItcBenb tyaav, 
Dent rei d)te fte ber ©a£en Befte, 
Der 231umen aflerfcfyonfte bar. 



Jets §5eaf imb 5a$ "Jefien.* 

(Sttjtgffar unb fpiegetretn unb eften 
g(ie§t bag gep^rletcfyte Men 
3m Dfymp ben (Setigen ba^tn«. 
9Jconbe it-ed^feln unb ©efcfyte^ter flie^en; 
3fyrer ©otterjugenb Sftofen Mfrjjeit 
SSanbelto* im etr-tgen diuin. 
3tr>tfd)en ©innenglittf unb ©eelenfrieben 
93tet6t bent SDTenfd^en nur bie bange 3Ba$I; 
5Iuf ber <3tirn be3 fjofyen Uraniben 
Seucfytet i^r $ermaf)lter ©tratjl.** 

SBottt tljr fcfyon auf (Erben ©ottern gleicfyen, 
grei fein in be3 £obe£ ffititytn, 
33red)et mdjt son feineg ©artenS $rudjt! 
2ln bent ©d)etne mag ber S3 fief jtdj wetben: 
Dec ©enujje^ ttanbet&are greuben • 
Stacfyet fcfcleunig ber Segierbe gtudjt 



* Sn ben Jporen com 5c$v 1795 erfdjien bie3 ©ebid)t unter ber Ueberfartfi: 
2)a$ SJteidj b er ©c&o t ten. 
** 5" fc w fritbern Slu^^abe fefgt f)ier bie @tro}>r)e: 

Sufjrt fein 2Beg f)inauf ju jenen Jpbljen? 

5."Ru§ ber 231ume Scbmucf sergeb/en, 

SBenn be3 JperbfteS ©abe fdjroeflen foil? 

SSJenn ftd> vunen» <SUberi)brner futten, 

9ftu§ bie anbre Jpalfte 9tad)t umbiillen? 

5Birb bie Strat?tenfd5ci6e niemate oott? 

Stein, au& au3 ber (Btnne S&ranfen fiiljrea 

5>fabe aufaarts jur Unenblidjfeir. 

£ie »un iferen ©iitern ntd)tg berii^ren, 

geffelt fein ©efejj ber 3eit. 
€4iCer3 famnttt. SBerfe. I. 14 



209 

With welcome all her guests were greeted ; 

But, if approached some loviug pair, 
To those her choicest stores were meted, 

Her brightest roses offered there. 

Florence. 



THE IDEAL AND LIFE.* 

Ever pure and mirror-bright and even, 
Light as zephyr-breath of Heaven, 

Life amidst the Immortals glides away. 
Moons are waning, generations wasting — 
Their celestial youth blooms everlasting, 

Changeless 'midst a ruined world's decay. 
Man is only left the hard election 

'Twixt the joys of sense and peace of mind — 
On the Godhead's brow in full perfection 

Beams their glorious ray combined.! 

"Would ye, even on earth, be like the Immortals- 
Free within Death's shadowy portals ? — 

Touch not, though his garden fruits invite ! 
Feed your eyes upon the specious treasures — 
Brief enjoyment's transitory pleasures 

Swift avenges Passion's hasty flight ; 



* This poem appeared in the Horen of 1795 under the title of The 
Realm of Shadows. 
f Here, in the early edition, follows the strophe : 

Leads no road to yonder heights ascending ? 
Must the flowery Spring have ending 

Soon as Autumn's plenteous gifts abound ? 
If the full-orbed moon beam forth unclouded, 
Must her nether disk in Night be shrouded ? 

Can she ne'er complete her dazzling round? 
Nay— since upward to the eternal mountain 

Even from bounds of sense are paths that climb ; 
Those who taste not of her riches' fountain 
Binds no statute-law of Time. 



210 

(SelBfl ber &tyr, ber neurtfadj ftc umtttnbel) 
SBe^rt bie diMhfo Seres Stouter md)tj 
9?ad) tern 5lpfef greift fie, nnb e3 Mnbet 
(Snug fie bes DtftfS ?Pjli4k 

Sftnr ber $6rper eignet jenen ^ac^ten, 
S)te bas bunfle ©d)tcf(al fledbten; 
Stber fret son jeber 3^itgetralt, 
Die ©efptelin feltger 9?atnren, 
SBaubelt oBett in be3 £id)te£ ^Inren, 
©ottltdj nnter ©ottern bie ©eft a It. 
SBotft ifyr Ijodj auf i^rert ^Uigeln fcfyttjetien, 
SBerft bie 2lngft be* 3rbifd)en son eu$! 
glieljet an3 bem engen bumpfen Sefcen 
3n te^ 3beate3 3totf) ! * 

3ngenblid), yon alien SrbenntaTen 
grei, in ber 25oIIenbnng ©trafylen 



£ier fxnfcen jtdj in fcer erften STttSgabe nodj folgenbe <SttD^f)iHt 
Unb »or jenen fitrduerlid>eit ©djaaren 
©udj auf eroig ju bercabrett, 
53red>et tmttbig afle Sriicfen ab. 
Stttert nidjt, bie Jpeimatb ju oerfieren; 
2IQe 5>fabe, biejum Seben fubren, 
SItle fitbren $um geaufFen ®rab. 
Dpfert freubig auf, tvaS ibr befeffen, 
2Ba$ ibr einft gemefett, rca$ i^r feib, 
Unb in einem feligen Skrgeffen 
©djwinbe bie Sergangenbeit. 

£eine ©djmerjerinnerung entmeilje 
Diefe greiftatt, feine SReue, 
£eine ©orge, fetner £brane ©pur, 
£o*gefprodjen ftnb son alien S>fltdjtett, 
S)ie in biefe3 Jpeiligtbum fid) flMten, 
Sltten Scbulben fterblidjer 51atur. 
Slufgericbtet reanble bier ber ©ffase, 
Seiner geffeln gtittftid) unbewu§t; 
(Seibft bie ramenbe grinne fd)Iafe 
griefclidj in be$ ©fitt&O* Srujt. 



210 

Styx itself, though winding nine times round her, 

Had no force Proserpina to chain ; 
But she plucked the Apple — and it bound her 

Fast to Orcus' drear domain. 

Those dark powers that weave the web of Fate 
Only rule the corporal state — 

But, from every time-compulsion free, 
Play-fellow of natures pure and bright, 
Roams above o'er iEther fields of light 

Form — 'mid Gods itself a Deity. 
Would ye soar aloft upon her pinion, 

Cast aside the slough of mortal clay ; 
And from close dull life to the dominion 

Of the Ideal flee away !* 

Youthful — from all taint of earth-connection 
Free — in beams of full Perfection — 



* Here, in the first edition, the following strophes are yet to be 
found : 

And, from those dread squadrons armed to rend you, 
Once forever to defend you, 

Break ye all the bridges, wisely brave ! 
Tremble not your homes to leave behind you — 
Every path that leads to life will find you, 

At your journey's end a certain grave. 
Joyfully resign whate'er was yours — 

What ye have been, and what now ye are — 
And in blest forgetfulness the hours 

That are passed be free to spare. 

Memory, pass no desecrating sentence 
On this sanctuary ! — Repentance, 

Hence, begone — and care, and useless tears 1 
Loosened are they from all vows debentured, 
Those who in this holy place have entered — 

From all mortal nature's long arrears. 
Let the slave no dungeon thoughts encumber, 

Whilst he roves in freedom unrepressed — 
Let the avenging Fury's self too slumber, 

Peaceful, in the sinner's breast ! 



211 

©djtoeM tjter ber 9ftenfd$ett ©otterBttb, 
2Bte beg Meng fd)wetgenbe tyfyantomt 
©langenb tvanbeln an bem ftyg'fcfyen ©trome, 
2Bie fie ftanb im t)tmmltfd)en ©eftlb, 
Sf)e nod) gum traur'gen @arfopf)age 
£)te UnfterMidje Ijetunter ftieg. 
SBenn im Men nodj beg ^ampfeg SBage 
©djmanft, erfdjeint f)ter ber @ieg* 

Sfttdjt $om $ampf bte (Mteber gu entftricfen, 
£)en (Srfcbopften gu erqutcfen, 
SGetyet f)ier beg ©iegeg buft'ger $ran^ 
$ftad)ttg, felBft mentt eure (Se^nett ru^ten, 
IRetgt tag Men eud) in feine gluten, 
&ufy bte 3eit in tfjren SBirBeltang* 
2loer ftnft beg 9ftutf)eg fii^ncr gliigel 
S3ei ber ©cfyranfen peinTtcfyem ©efutjf, 
£)ann erMtdet $on ber ©d)onljett £uget 
greubig bag erflogne Qitt* 

SBenn eg gilt, ju ^errfcBen unb gu fdjirmen, 
$ampfergegen ^ampfer jtitrmett 
2luf beg (kiideg, auf beg 3iuf)meg 23a$n, 
£)a mag JtitfjnJjett fid& an $raft $erfd)fagen, 
Unb nut fracfyenbem ®etog bte SCagen 
©id) sermengen auf BeftauBtem 'flan. 
Wlutfy attein lann fyier ben £)anf errtngen, 
£)er am 3^ beg £ippobromeg whtft* 
Sftur ber ©tarfe mtrb bag ©djtdfal jnnngen, 
SBenn ber <Sd)n>ad)Iing unterfmlt 

9lBer ber, son $lippen eingefd)foffen, 
SBBilb unb fd>aumenb ftdj ergoffen, 
©anft unb eBen rinnt beg SeBeng $tu$ 



211 

Hovers here the Human form Divine. 
As Life's silent phantoms glancing wander 
Where the gloomy Stygian waves meander, 

As they once were wont in Heaven to shine ; 
Once — or e'er the Immortal first descended 

To its drear Sarcophagus below — 
Though in life her scales may rest suspended, 

Victo^ here herself doth show. 

Not to free from strife the warring members— 
To revive the dying embers — 

Floats the fragrant wreath of Victory here. 
Mighty, though your sinews rest from motion, 
Life still bears you downwards to the Ocean, 

Time still whirls you in his mad career, 
Then, if flagging wings forget their duty, 

Damped by painful sense of stern control, 
Gladly from the ideal hill of Beauty 

Contemplate the accomplished goal. 

Are we now for lording and defending — 
Eival combatants, contending 

On the paths of glory or success ? 
There may courage with brute force be clashing, 
And the chariots with their thunder crashing 

On the dusty field commingled press. 
Boldness only may the prize inherit, 

Distant beckoning from the course's goal. 
Fate yields ever to the master spirit, 

While succumbs the feeble soul. 

But life's flood, that first by close impending 
Bocks confined, in wild descending 
Cataracts foamed, now glides with even flow 



212 

£)ttr$ ber (Sdjontjeit (littc ©^attenTanbe, 
Unb auf fetner SBetten ©il&erranbe 
SDZalt Aurora ficfy unb £efperug» 
Slufgeloft in garter SBecfyfellieBe, 
3n ber Sfamutfj freiem Sunt) fleremt, 
Sftutyen fyier bie auggefofynten Slrie&e, 
Unb tterfcfymunben tft ber geinb* 

SBenn bag Sobre Mbenb ju Befeeten, 
SD^it bem @toff jtdj gu fcermafylen, 
Sfyatenttotf ber ®eniug entBrennt, 
£)a, ba fpanne fid) beg gleifeg 5Reri?e / 
Unb Befyarrlidj ringenb untertrerfe 
S)er ©ebanfe fict) bag (Sfement 
5^ur bem Srnft, ben fetne SSSlvfyt Metdjet, 
Sftaufdjt ber SGatyrljeit tief serftecfter 23orn; 
9ta beg WtifoU fcfytrerem @$lag ertreidjet 
(Bid) beg 9flarmorg fprobeg $orm 

2T6er bringt Big in ber @dj outfit (Spljare, 

Unb im <3tauBe BlciBt bie ©toere 

Wit bem ©toff, ben fte Bel)errfd)t, guriicrV 

9UcBt ber 5DZaffe quateoU aBgerungen, 

©cfylanf unb leidjt, trie aug bem 9ttdjtg gefprungen, 

©tetjt bag 23ilb $or bem entgiidten SSCicf* 

Side 3^ e ^f e ^ a ^ e ^ampfe fcfyweigen 

3n beg ©iegeg §o$er ©icfyerfyeit; 

2Iuggefto$en tyctt eg jeben 3w$w 

Sftenfct/licfyer Seburftigfeit. 

$3enn ifjr in ber 9ftenfd)$ett traur'ger SBIof c 
©tetjt tfor beg ©efe^eg (Droge, 
SCenn bem £eiligen bie ©cfyutb ftdj na$t, 
2) a erWajfe »or ber 2$af>rl;eit ©tra^le 



212 

Silently through Beauty's shadowy mansion : 
And upon its bosom's bright expansion 

Hesper and Aurora pictured glow. 
Here in mutual love their tumults steeping, 

Free united in the bonds of Grace, 
Rest the reconciled passions sleeping, 

And the Foe hath left no trace. 

When, to animate the mass imbedded — 
With dead matter to be wedded — 

Genius burns, on strenuous act intent ; 
Then be Industry's strong nerves expanded, 
And let Thought, in ceaseless conflict banded, 

Subject to its laws the element. 
Only zeal, impatient of repose, 

Finds Truth bubbling from her secret vein ; 
Only to the chisel's ponderous blows 

Yields the marble's stubborn grain. 

But to Beauty's sphere once penetrate, 
And in dust remains dead weight, 

With the senseless matter which it sways. 
Not as from the laboring block hard-wrung ; 
Light and graceful, as from nothing sprung, 

Stands the statue to the raptured gaze. 
There all doubts are hushed, all conflict vanished, 

In the proud assurance of success ; 
Thence all witnesses forever banished 

Of poor Human nakedness. 

When before the Law's majestic terror 
Bare ye stand, in conscious error — 

When unto The Holy, Guilt draws nigh — 
Then may blench, before the beams of real 



213 

(Sure £ugenb, $or bem 3beate 
$iki)t mutfylog bie fcefdjaritte Zi)at 
$ein (Srfdjaffrfer §at bieg Qiel erflogen; 
UeBer biefen grauensollen ©cBhtnb 
Stragt feht ^as^en, feiner 23ruife 53ogen, 
Unb fein 2Mer fhtbet ©runb* 

2lfcr fliid)tet aug ber (Stnne (Sdjranfen 

3tt bie greifyeit ber ©ebanfen, 

Unb bie gurd)terfd)einung tjl enrfTofin, 

Unb ber ew'ge 2lbgruub roirb ftd) fittten; 

Sfteljmt bie ©ott^eit auf in curen ^Bitten, 

Unb fie ftetgt »on iljrem ©eltentljron. 

£)eg ©efe^ey ftrengc -gefjei btnbet 

9htr ben (Sfla&enfmn, ber eg serfdjmafjt; 

fOTit beg SJftettfdjen SMberftanb tterfdjitunbet 

2tudj beg ©otteg ^afeftat 

£Benn ber SSftenfdjMt Seiben eudj umfangen, 
SBcnn Saofoon ber <2d)langen 
(Stcft ermefyrt ntit namenfofem ©djmerj, 
2) a entpore ftdj ber 59?ettfdj! So fdjlage 
2In beg Jpimmelg 236I6ung feine $fage 
Unb gerret jje euer fiifylenb iperj ! 
5)er Sftatur furdjtfcare ©timmc fiege, 
Unb ber greube SSange tcerbe Meidj, 
Unb ber tjeiFgeit ©^mpat^ie erliege 
T)a$ UnfterBIit^e in end)! 

9T6er in ben fyeirern Sftegionen, 

2Bo bie retnen gormen wofmen, 

Sftaufcfyt beg 3ammerg trii&er @turm nid)t tnel^r* 

■Spier barf ©cfymerj bie ©eele nidjt burcfyfdjneiben, 

^eine Sfyrane fliejjt Kjter meljr bem Seiben, 

S^ur beg ©ctfteg tapfrer ©egentuefyr. 



213 

Truth, your Virtue — then before the Ideal, 

Spiritless, your deeds confounded fly. 
No created mind hath reached this centre. 

O'er this terrible abyss profound 
May no arch be spanned — no bark may venture ; 

And no anchor findeth ground. 

But, from bounds of sense delivered, soar 
To free Thought's unbounded shore — 

And the spectre shapes away have flown, 
And the eternal Chasm itself shall fill : 
Take the Godhead up into your will, 

And he steps from his Creation-throne. 
Only slavish sense, that spurns compliance, 

Crouches at the Law's coercive rod : \ 
Vanishes, if man but cease defiance, ^ 

All the terror of a God. 

When ye stand begirt with Human woes — 
When 'midst agonizing throes, 

Priam's son his serpent folds would part, 
Then let man arouse him — let it fly 
To the vault of Heaven, his piercing cry. 

And distract with grief your feeling heart — 
Then the formidable voice of Nature 

Triumph — and the cheek of Joy turn pale — 
And, to subjugate the immortal creature, 

Holy Sympathy prevail. 

But where 'bide pure Forms — in those bright regions 
Tenanted by shadowy legions, 

Rude Affliction's storms no longer tear. 
There are souls no longer racked with anguish, 
Weeping eyes no more with sorrow languish, 

Only Spirit's firm resolve is there. 
34 



214 

SteMtdj, ftie ber 3rtS ^arBenfener 
2Iuf ber 2)onnertvolle bnff gem Zfyau, 
@d)tmmert bnrd) ber 28e$mut§ bitftern @d)Ieier 
£ier ber 3ini)e f)eitreg 33Iau* 

Sltef erniebricjt ^u beg $eigen $ned)te, 

©ing in etoigem ®efe$te 

(ginft 2tlcib beg SeBeng fd>mere 23atjn, 

Hang mit iptybern nnb nmarmt' ben Senen, 

©tiirgte fid), bte grennbe jn Befreten, 

£eBenb in beg £obtenfd)tfferg $a$n«. 

Side $fagen, a He Srbenlaften 

SBal^t ber un»crfo^nten ©orttn Sift 

Slttf bte nntPgen ©djuftent beg 23erfyaf ten, 

23tg fein Sanf geenbtgt ift — 

23tg ber ©ott, beg 3rbtfd>en entfletbet, 
glammenb fid) ttom iD?enfd)en fdjeibet 
Unb beg 2letl)erg letd)te Sitfte trtnft 
grot) beg nenen nngett>ot)nten ©cfytteBeng, 
$ltefjt er anftocirtg, nnb beg SrbenleBeng 
(5d)ft>ereg SranntBilb (tnlt nnb finft 
S)eg Oltympng Jparmonien empfangen 
£)en ^Serftarten in ^roniong <Basd, 
Unb bte ©otttn ntit ben SRofenmangen 
#teid)t tfym ladjelnb ben $)oM«. 



t 

SSon $erfen Bant fid) eine S3riicfe 
^oc^ tiBer einen granen @ee; 

©ie Bant fid) anf int SlngenBUcfe, 
Unb fdjtttnbelnb fteigt fie in bie £c$« 



214 

Lovely as the hues of Iris, beaming 
On the thunder-cloud's refreshing dew, 

Through the dusky veil of sadness gleaming, 
Peace reveals her heavenly Blue. 

To the Despot's abject slave degraded, 

In eternal conflict waded 
Great Alcides through life's dreary ways, 

Hydras binding, Lions fierce enwreathing, 

And, to free the loved one, plunged while breathing 
In the bark which parted souls conveys. 

All the plagues and labors earth can muster 
Bids the Goddess's envenomed hate 

On her victim's willing shoulders cluster- 
Till the term prescribed by Fate, — 

Till the God, his mortal robe disclaiming, 
Tears himself from manhood, flaming, 

And the light setherial vapor drinks. 
Joyful, to new Life's unmeasured distance 
Soars he upwards ; and of earth-existence 

Sinks the weary vision — sinks — and sinks. 
Harmonies from high Olympus flowing 

Greet him, glorious, on the heavenly floors ; 
And the dimpled Goddess, roseate glowing, 

In his cup the Nectar pours. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq.^ F.S.A, 



PAEABLES AND KIDDLES. 
1. 
A Bridge of pearls its form uprears 

High o'er a gray and misty sea ; 
E'en in a moment it appears, 
And rises upwards giddily. 



215 

£)er ^od&jfctt (Sd)ijfe |6d)fte yjlafcn 

3ie^n unter ifyrem 23ogen $itt, 
(Sie felber trug nod) feine Saftert 

Unb fdjetnt, toie bu i|r natyjr, gu flte^tt* 

<Sie ioirb erjt mtt bent (Strom unb fdjttrinbet, 
(So toie beg SBajferg glutt) oerftegt 

(So fprid), too ftd) bie 23riide ftnbet, 
Unb toer fte fimftlid) Ijat gefiigt? 



2. 

G£g fiit)rt bt$ meilentoeit oon bannen, 
Unb oleibt bodj ftetg an feinem £)rt; 

@g f)at nid)t §(itget aug^ufpannen, 
Unb tragi bid) burd) bie Siifte fort* 

(£g ifl bie aflerfdjnetlfte ^re, 
£ie jemalg einen SBanbrer trug, 

Unb burdj bag grofjte aller 50^eere 
£ragt eg birij mit ©ebanfenfhtg; 
Sfyn ijt em Slugenolicf genug. 



3. 

Slttf etner grofen SQeibe gefien 
SStet tanfenb (Sd)afe ftlbertoeifj; 

2Bie loir fte §eute ioanheln fef)en, 
(Sat) fte ber alleralt'fte ®reig» 

<Sie altern nie unb trinfen £ebett 
Sing etnem unerfd)6pfren 23orn, 

(Sin ipirt ift ifynen mgegeben 
Sftit fdjim gebognem (Silberljow, 



215 

Beneath its arch can find a road 
The loftiest vessel's mast most high, 

Itself hath never borne a load, 
And seems, when thou draw'st near, to fly. 

It comes first with the stream, and goes 
Soon as the watery flood is dried. 

"Where may be found this bridge, disclose, 
And who its beauteous form supplied ! 



2. 

It bears thee many a mile away, 
And yet its place it changes ne'er ; 

It has no pinions to display, 
And yet conducts thee through the air. 

It is the bark of swiftest motion 
That ever weary wanderer bore ; 

With speed of thought the greatest ocean 
It carries thee in safety o'er ; 
One moment wafts thee to the shore. 



3. 

Upon a spacious meadow play 
Thousands of sheep, of silvery hue ; 

And as we see them move to-day, 
The man most aged saw thsm too. 

They ne'er grow old, and, from a rill 
That never dries, their life is drawn ; 

A shepherd watches o'er them still, 
With curved and beauteous silver horn. 



216 

Sr treiBt fie au$ %u golbnen Sfjoren, 
@r nBerja^It fte jebe 9ladjr, 

Unb $at ber Sammer fein3 oertoren, 
(So oft er aufy ben 2£eg oollbradjt* 

Gin trener ipnnb §tfft fte iBm lei ten, 
(Sin mnntrer SBtbber gel)t ooran, 

Die .ipeerbe, fannft bu fie mir benren, 
Unb au§ ben Jptrten getg mir axil 



4. 

S3 jfc$t ein gro§ geranmig ^anS 

2lnf nnft&tBaren (ganlen; 
S3 miffs 1 nnb gent's !ein SBanbrer ans, 

Unb feiner barf brin toeifen* 
^Tlad) einem nnBegriffnen 3)Ian 

3ft e« mit $unfl gejimmert; 
©3 ftecft ftdj fetBft bie Sampe an, 

Die e3 mit $rad>t bnrd}fd)immert> 
S3 $at ein Da$, frpftaltenrein, 
SSon einent ein^gen Sbelfiein; 

Dod) nod) fein 2luge frfmnte 

Den Sfteijier, ber e3 Bante* 



5. 

3tret (Eimer fteBt man aB nnb auf 

3n einen 53rnnnen ftetgen, 
Unb fdjtue&t ber erne ooH §erauf, 

5D?u^ ftdj ber anbre netgen, 
(5te tranbern raftlos" f)in nnb l)tx, 
Slowed) felnb »ott nnb nueber leer, 
Unb Brtngft bn btefen an ben SOtitnb, 
£angt jener in bem tiefften ©rnnbj 



216 

He drives them out through gates of gold, 
And every night their number counts ; 

Yet ne'er has lost, of all his fold, 
One lamb, though oft that path he mounts. 

A hound attends him faithfully, 
A nimble ram precedes the way ; 

Canst thou point out that flock to me, 
And who the shepherd, canst thou say ? 



4. 

There stands a dwelling, vast and tall, 

On unseen columns fair ; 
No wanderer treads or leaves its hall, 

And none can linger there. 
Its wondrous structure first was planned 

With art no mortal knows ; 
It lights the lamps with its own hand 

'Mongst which it brightly glows. 
It has a roof, as crystal bright, 
Formed of one gem of dazzling light ; 

Yet mortal eye has ne'er 

Seen Him who placed it there. 



5. 

Within a well two buckets lie, 

One mounts, and one descends ; 
When one is full, and rises high, 

The other downward wends. 
They wander ever to and fro — 
Now empty are, now overflow. 
If to the mouth thou liftest this, 
That hangs within the dark abyss. 



217 

9lte fottttcn ffc ntit Ujren (3ahtn 
3« gletcfyem 2tugenMicf bid) lafsetu, 



^ennft bit bag 23ttb auf partem ©runbe? 

@g gt&t fi$ felBer 8l$t itnb ©tana* 
@tn anbreg ijt'l git jeber ©tunbe, 

Unb immer ijl eg frifdj unb flatty 
3m eit.qftat 9taum ijVg au^gefii^ret, 

T)er Hetnfte Sftafymen fagt eg ein; 
£)o$ atfe ©rofjje, bic bid) rufyret, 

$ennjt bu bur$ biefeg S5ilb affefru 

Unb fannft bu ben $n;fkH tntr nennen ? 

3*)m a,Ieid)t an SBertf) fetn ©belftetn; 
(£r teucfytet, oJjne |e gu Brennen, 

£)ag a,an$e SBeTtafl faugt er etn* 
2)er £immef felfcft tft aBgemalet 

3n fetnent nmnberttotfen SRtng, 
Unb bod) ift, ttag er toon ftd) firaBIet, 

sftocfy fdjoner, als n>ag er etnpftna,* 



7. 
gin ©eftaube fteljt ba <oon uralten Seittn, 
(£g ifl lein 5£empel, eg ift fein £aug; 
Sin better lann fjunbert £acje reiten, 
(£r nmwanbert eg md)t, er rettefg nicfyt au$. 

3afjrf)unberte ftnb aonifcer geflogcn, 
(£g treble ber 3 e ^ wn ^ *>er ^tiirrne £>eer; 
$ret ftefyt eg nnter bem tyintntllf^en 23oa,ftt, 
(£g rei$t in bie SCollen, eg ne£t (i<§ im Sfteer* 



217 

In the same moment they can ne'er 
Eefresh thee with their treasures fair. 



6. 

Know'st thou the form on tender ground ? 

It gives itself its glow, its light ; 
And though each moment changing found, 

Is ever whole and ever bright. 
In narrow compass 'tis confined, 

Within the smallest frame it lies ; 
Yet all things great that move thy mind, 

That form alone to thee supplies. 

And canst thou, too, the crystal name ? 

No gem can equal it in worth ; 
It gleams, yet kindles ne'er to flame, 

It sucks in even all the earth. 
Within its bright and wondrous ring 

Is pictured forth the glow of heaven, 
And yet it mirrors back each thing 

Far fairer than to it 'twas given. 



For ages an edifice here has been found, 

It is not a dwelling, it is not a fane ; 
A horseman for hundreds of days may ride round, 

Yet the end of his journey he ne'er can attain. 

Full many a century o'er it has passed, 

The might of the storm and of time it defies ; 

'Neath the rainbow of Heaven stands free to the last,- 
In the ocean it dips, and soars up to the skies. 



218 

9H<$t ctttc $ra{)Ifud)t §at e3 get^urntet, 
(£§ fcienet pm £eif, e$ rettet nnb fcfyirmet; 
@eine3 ©leicfyen ift nid)t auf (Srfcen frefannt, 
Unfc tod) tft'» ein SGerf son 9Jlenfd)cnf)anb* 



Unter alien (Sdjtangm tfl eine, 
5luf (Srben tttc^t gejeugt, 

2Jltt ber an ©cfynetle feme, 
2(n 2But§ ftdj feme suergtei^t; 

<5te ftiir^t nut furd)tftarer ©ttmme 
2tuf ifyren 3lauB jtdj Io8, 

SSevtilgt in einem ©rimme 
£)en better nnb fein 9tojj* 

©ie IteBt Me ^od)ften ©ptijen; 

9M$t ©dlof, titc^t Spiegel tann 
23or tljrem Slnfaft [d)ii^en; 

£er £arnifdj — lotft fie an* 

<Sie tmd)t, tote bihttte £>atmen, 
£)en ftarfften Sanrn entaroet: 

©te fann ba£ @rj jermalmen, 
$3te bi$t nnb feft e3 feu 

Unb btefes Unge^euer 

Jpat groetmal nte gebrotjt — 
@g ftirbt im eignen $ener; 

2Bie 1 tobtet, ift e$ tobt! 



218 

It was not vain glory that bade its erection, 
It serves as a refuge, a shield, a protection ; 
Its like on the earth never yet has been known, 
And yet by man's hand it is fashioned alone. 



Amongst all serpents there is one, 

Born of no earthly breed ; 
In fury wild it stands alone, 

And in its matchless speed. 

With fearful voice and headlong force 

It rushes on its prey, 
And sweeps the rider and his horse 

In one fell swoop away. 

The highest point it loves to gain ; 

And neither bar nor lock 
Its fiery onslaught can restrain ; 

And arms — invite its shock. 

It tears in twain, like tender grass, 

The strongest forest-tree ; 
It grinds to dust the hardened brass, 

Though stout and firm it be. 

And yet this beast, that none can tame, 
Its threat ne'er twice fulfils ; 

It dies in its self-kindled flame, 
And dies e'en when it kills. 



219 



SBtr frammen, nnfer fedjg ©efdjivijler, 
33on einem nmnberfamen tyaav, 

SDte Gutter, emtg ernft nnb biifter, 
2)er 2kter fr6()tid) intmetbar. 

SSon Beibett erBten tr>tr bie Sngenb, 
23on t^r bie s 3Mbe, son ifym ben ©tanj; 

(So brefyn toir nng in em'ger 3ugenb 
Urn bid) tjernm tm QixMtan^ 

©em metben toir bie fd^argen ipo^Ien, 
Unb TieBen nng ben fyeitern £ag; 

SBir ftnb eg, bie bie SBelt Befeelen 
W\t nnferg SeBeng 3<* u ^f$f a $* 

SBtr ftnb beg griifylingg luft'ge Soten 
Unb fii^ren (einen ntnntern £Rei^tt; 

SDrnm flie^en nut bag £>ang ber Sobten; 
£)enn nm nng fyer mu$ SeBen feim 

Ung ma$ !ein ©Iiidlidjet entBeljren, 
2Bir ftnb baBet, too man ftdj frenr, 

Unb lag t ber ^aifer ftd) oereljren, 
28 tr leiljen i|m bie iperrlid)fetk. 



10. 

5Qte ^eigt bag £)inot, bag 2Ben'ge f$a£en ? 
2)oc^ gterfg beg grogten ^aiferg £anb; 
(£g ift gemadjt, um gn oerle^en; 
2lm nacfyften iffg bem ©cfyftert oertuanbt. 

$ein 33lnt oergtefjfg nnb madjt bodj tanfenb 33nnben, 
9Uemanb BeranBfg nnb tnad)t bod) teidj; 
(gg Ijat ben Srbfretg iiBermnnben, 
(£g ntadjt bag SeBen fanft nnb glei$» 



219 

9. 
"We children six our being had 

From a most strange and wondrous pair,- 
Our mother ever grave and sad, 

Our father ever free from care. 

Our virtues we from both receive, — 
Meekness from her, from him our light, 

And so in endless youth we weave 
Round thee a circling figure bright. 

"We ever shun the caverns black, 

And revel in the glowing day ; 
'Tis we who light the world's dark track, 

With our life's clear and magic ray. 

Spring's joyful harbingers are we, 
And her inspiring strains we swell ; 

And so the house of death we flee, 
For life alone must round us dwell. 

"Without us is no perfect bliss, 
"When man is glad, we, too, attend, 

And when a monarch worshiped is, 
To him our majesty we lend. 



10. 
"What is the thing esteemed by few ? 

The monarch's hand it decks with pride, 
Yet it is made to injure too, 

And to the sword is most allied. 

No blood it sheds, yet many a wound 
Inflicts, — gives wealth, yet takes from none ; 

Has vanquished e'en the earth's wide round, 
And makes life's current smoothly run. 



220 

Die grojjten Sfcidje tyat'3 gegriinbet, 
Die alt'ften ©tabte tyat'S erbaut; 
Dodj ntemaU tjat eg ^rieg ent^iinber, 
Unb £eil tern 33olf, bag i§m oertrauti 



11. 

3$ tooljne tit etnem ftetnernen £ait3, 

Da lieg' t$ oerborgen unb fd)lafe; 

Dod) idj trete Jjersor, td) eife fjeraug, 

©eforbert mit etferner HBaffe* 

Srft bin id) unfd)einbar unb fd)tt>a$ unb flein, 

9Ri§ faun bein Sttfyem Bejnnngen; 

©in ^egentropfen fdjon faugt mtdj eitt; 

Dod) mir mad)fen im (Siege bie ©djmingett. 

SQenn bie mad)ttge ©d)tt>efter fid) 3 it mir gefetlr, 

(£noad)P idj 3«m furdjt&ant ©ebieter ber $Mt. 



12. 

3d) brefje mtdj attf einer ©djetfte, 

3dj bauble ofyne IRaft uttb 2ftn§. 
$lein ift bag §elb, bag id^ umfd)reibe, 

2)u bedft e^ mit gwei £anben gu — 
Dod) Brand)' id) oiele taufettb WfltiUn, 

23ig id) bag Heine $elb burdjjogen, 
glieg 1 idj gletdj fort mit ©tnrmeg Stlett 

Unb f crueller aU ber $fetl oom SBogen. 



13. 

(Sin 55 o get tfi eg, unb an (Sdjnelle 
23uf)It eg mit eineg 5lblerg §fug; 

(Sin gtfdj ift'g unb gert^eilt bie 2Betfe, 
Die no$ fein grojjreg Untfjter trugj 



220 

The greatest kingdoms it has framed, 
The oldest cities reared from dust, 

Yet war's fierce torch has ne'er inflamed ; 
Happy are they who in it trust I 



11. 

I live within a dwelling of stone, 

There buried in slumber I dally ; 
Yet, armed with a weapon of iron alone, 

The foe to encounter I sally. 
At first I'm invisible, feeble, and mean, 

And o'er me thy breath has dominion ; 
I'm easily drowned in a raindrop e'en, 

Yet in victory waxes my pinion. 
When my sister, all-powerful, gives me her hand, 
To the terrible lord of the world I expand. 



12. 

Upon a disk my course I trace, 

There restlessly forever flit ; 
Small is the circuit I embrace, 

Two hands suffice to cover it. 
Yet ere that field I traverse, I 

^Full many a thousand mile must go, 
E'en though with tempest-speed I fly, 

Swifter than arrow from a bow. 



13. 

A bird it is, whose rapid motion 
With eagle's flight divides the air ; 

A fish it is, and parts the ocean, 
That bore a greater monster ne'er ; 



221 

©in (Slept) ant ifTg, metdjer £prme 

2luf feinem fdjweren Sftittfen tragi; 
SDer ©p inn en friedjenbem ®enmrme 

©letd)t e^, toenn eg bie $ii£e regt; 
Unb Jjat eg feft ftdj eingebtffen 

Sftit fetnem fpi^'gen (£ifen$a:(jn, 
@o fief^g gleidjnne auf feften $u£ett 

Unb tro^t bem nmtfyenben Drfan* 



3>er Jpajierpng. 

@ei mir gegritft, mein 23erg mit bem rotftfictj jtra^Ieti* 

ben ©ipfel! 

@ei mtr, (Sonne, gegriift, bie \\)n fo lieblid) befdjeint! 

2)i$ anc^ gritfT idj, belebte $lur, end), faufelnbe Sinben, 

Unb ben frof)ltd)en£ijor,ber auf ben feften ftd) toiegt, 

Sftufyige 231aue, bid) audj, bie unermef lid) ftcfy auggieft 

Urn ba^ braune ©ebirg, itber ben griinenben 2BaIb, 

Shtcfy um midj, ber, enblid) entflofm beg Qxmmtx^ ©e* 

fangni£ 
Unb bem engen ©efpradj, frenbig ftdj rettet $u bit* 
£>einer £iifte balfamifdjer Strom burdjrtnnt mi$ er* 

quidenb, 
Unb ben burftigen 25lid labt bag energifdje Sidjt. 
itrafttg auf blitfyenber 2lu erglangen bie toedjfelnben 

§arben, 
Slber ber reijenbe (Streit Tofet in Sfnmuttj ftdj auf» 
§rei emofangt midj bie SSiefe mit toetttjin oerbreitetem 

£ep»i$; 
£)urdj fyx freunblidjcg ©rim fdjlingt ftd) ber lanb* 

lic^e spfab. 
Um midj fummt bie gefdjaftige 23iene, mit jtoeifembem 

glugel 



221 

An elephant it is, whose rider 

On his broad back a tower has put ; 
'Tis like the reptile base, the spider, 

Whenever it extends its foot ; 
And when, with iron tooth projecting, 

It seeks its own life-blood to drain, 
On footing firm, itself erecting. 

It braves the raging hurricane. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE WALK. 

Welcome, O welcome, my hill, with the redly glitter- 
ing summit, 

And thou, sun, in whose light lovely and warmly it 
glows ! 

Thou, too, live grassy plain, and ye, ye murmuring 
lindens, 

And the feathery choir swinging about on the boughs. 

Welcome, ye soft blue skies, who pour your infinite 
fulness 

Round the gray far-off hills, over the forest so green, 

Round me, too, who at last, escaped from my cham- 
ber's confinement, 

And from narrowing talk, gladly find refuge with you ; 

Streams of your balmiest air thrill through me, and 
quicken my spirit, 

And no longer my eyes thirst for the life-giving light. 

Thousands of colors are flashing in mutual chase o'er 
the meadow, 

But their emulous strife soon into harmony runs. 

Freely receives me the lawn on its velvet far-spread- 
ing carpet ; 

Through its friendliest green rurally windeth a path ; 

Busily round me hum the bees ; on irresolute pinion 
35 



222 

SBiegt ber Sdjmetterltng fid) iifcer bem rottjlidjten 

Met. 
©Itt&enb trip midj tier Sonne spfeil, jHtt liegen t>ie 

SBefte, 
9htr ber £erdje ©efang toixMt in ^eirerer Sufh 
£)odj jejjt fcraujt's au3 tern nafyen ©eoiifd); tief net* 

gen ber (Men 
kronen jtdj, unb int SBinb mogt ba3 serfUfcerte 

®ra$; 
Sftidj umfangt amftroftfdje 9?ad)t ; in buftenbe $lu§* 

lung 
9Hmmt ein prad)tige3 Qafy fcfyattenber 23ud)en mtctj 

ein* 
3n be$ SBalbeS ©efjeimntf entflie^t mix auf etnmal 

bie £anbfd)dft, 
Unb tin fd)langetnber $fab leitet mid) fteigenb empor. 
Sftur tterftofylen burdjbringtber 3tt>eige laubigteS ©itter 
©parfameS £id)t, nnb eS Midi ladjenb ba$ 231aue 

herein, 
2H>er plo^tidj gerrei^t ber glor* £)er geoffnete SSalb 

gibt 
Ueberrafdje.nb beS £ag$ Menbenbem ©rang midj 

guritil 
UnaBfe^oar ergieft ftdj »or meinen 231iden bie gente, 
Unb ein blaue$ ©ebirg enbtgt im Dufte bie 2BeIt* 
£ief an be3 Sergei gug, ber goslings unter mir ab* 

ftiirgt, 
SBatlet be$ grunfidjten ©troms fliefenber Spiegel 

fcorfcei, 
(£nb!o3 nnter mir fety 1 idj ben 2letfyer, itBer mir enbtoS, 
. 33lide mit @d)nnubeln fyinauf, Hide mit ©djaubew 

$inaK 
$ber jttnfdjen ber emigen $ofy unb ber emigen £tefe 



222 

Flits the butterfly round over the clover so red. 

Glowing smite me the sun's warm rays ; still slum- 
ber the zephyrs ; 

Only the song of the lark warbles aloft through the 
air. 

Hark, what rustling sound sweeps on from the 
neighboring thicket ? 

Th' alder-crowns nod ; in the wind waveth the sil- 
very grass ; 

Me receives ambrosial night ; in odorous coolness, 

'Neath their glittering roof, box-trees o'ershadow 
me now. 

In the mysterious wood escapes me a moment the 
landscape, 

And a serpentine path upward conducts me along. 

Only in stolen gleams through the leafy, twig-woven 
lattice 

Breaks a scattering light ; smiling the heavens look 
in. 

Soon the green curtain is rent. The swiftly opening 
wood gives 

Daylight's dazzling glance suddenly back to my 
sight. 

Farther than eye can reach outspreads the distance 
before me, 

And a chain of blue hills ends in a vapor the world. 

Deep at the mountain's foot, which sinks abruptly 
below me, 

Floats the flower-girt stream's wavering mirror 
along. 

Endless under me see I the aether, over me end- 
less ; 

Dizzily upward I look, and with a shudder look 
down. 

But betwixt the infinite height and infinite depth, a 



223 

STragt ein getanterter ©teig jldjer ten SBantret 

feajttt* 
Sadjent flte^en ait mir tie retdjen Ufer ^oriiBer 

Unt ten fro§ltd)en gteijj ritfymet tag prangente £§al. 
3ene £tnien, jtetj! tie ted £anbmannd Sigentfynm 

f^etten, 
3n ten £epptdj ter $Inr $at (te 2)emeter genurft 
§renntlid)e (Shrift ted ©efefces, ted mettf<$ener{jattett* 

ten (Sotted, 
<5eit au$ ter etjernen SCelt fluent tie Sieoe oer* 

fdfymant! 
2T6er in freieren (Sdjlangen tnrd)freu3t tie geregetten 

Selter, 
3^t oerfdjtnngen oom 2$alb, jejjt an ten 25ergen 

fyinanf 
^limment, ein fdjhnmernter ©treif, tie Santer oer* 

Iniipfente ©traj^e; 
2tuf tern eftenen ©trom gteiten tie glof e taJjhu 
23ielfad) ertont ter £eetten ©ela'nt 1 im oelebten ©efttte, 
Unt ten SBieterfjatf toedt einfam ted ipirten ©efang* 
Sftnntre £)orfer fcefranaen ten ©trom, in ©eoiifdjen 

oerfcfyiointen 
Store, oom RMm ted 33 erg d ftitqen fte gatj tort 

^erao. 
Sftadjoartidj iooljnet ter SDZenfdj nod) mit tern 2Jcfer $n* 

fammen, 
©eine ^elter nmrnljn friettidj [ein lantlidjed 2)ac^; 
£ranli$ ranft pdj tie 3W empor an tern nietrigen 

genfter, 
(Einen nmarmenten 3^eig fdjHngt um tie £ittte 

ter Saunu 
©IMidjed £olf ter ©eftlte! no<$ nidjt jnr f^rei^eit 

ertoacfyet, 



223 

Well-fenced natural bridge carries the traveler across. 

See, yon rich green banks fly smilingly over to meet 
me ; [toil ; 

How the flourishing vale honors the husbandman's 

See those light-running lines, too, girding the farmer's 
estate round, — 

Ceres has woven them well into her carpet of green ; 

Friendly handwriting of Law, man's blessed and only 
protector 

Ever since grief-stricken Love left the degenerate 
earth. 

But, in less regular windings across the fields and the 
pastures, 

Now quite lost in a wood, now up the slope of a hill, 

Climbs a shimmering streak, the road that brings 
places together ; 

There are rafts on the stream gracefully gliding along ; 

Hark ! how the scattering flocks do fill the live plain 
with their bleating, 

While the shepherd's shrill pipe bids the lone echo 
awake ! 

Gay little cottages fringe the stream — through the 
thicket there hide them 

More— from the brow of the hill others seem ready to 
fall. 

Neighborly dwells the farmer there on his acres con- 
tented; 

Eound his low thatched roof peacefully slumber his 
fields ; 

Trustingly groweth the vine, as it creeps up under his 
window, 

And, as in friendship, the tree winds round his cot- 
tage an arm. 

Happy, ye serfs of the field ! not yet to Freedom awa- 
kened, 



224 



Snjettjt bu mtt betner ftlux fro^Iidj bag enge ©efejj* 
£>eine 28iinfcfye fcefdjrauft ber (Srnten rugger ilreig* 

lauf, 
2Bie bein £agett?erf, gteidj, ttinbet bein Men fte afc! 
W>tx n>er rauBt mir auf einmal ben IteBItd^en SlnBlitf ? 

(Sin frember 
©eift tterBreitet fttij fdjnett ttBer bic frembere gtur, 
(Sprobe fonbert fie aB, n?a^ faum nodj fteBenb ft$ 

mtfdj te, 
Unb bag ©leidje nur ift'g, tt?ag an bag ©teicfye ff$ 

retfjt 
©tanbe fetj t$ geBilbet, ber tyapptln ftotge ®ef$fe$ter 
3tef)n in georbnetem $omp ttorneljm unb pradjtig 

batjer* 
Jftegel nurb atfeg unb atleg ttirb 2Bat)t unb atteg 23e* 

beutung; 
SDiefeg £)ienergefotg melbet ben £>errfdjer mtr an. 
$)rangenb serfimbigen ifyn »on fern bie Beleudjteten 

^uppeln, 
2htg bent felftgten $ern IjeBt ftd) bte tljtirmenbe 

<5tabt 
3n bte SBilbnif f)inaug ftnb beg SGalbeg gaunen ser* 

fto§en, 
SfBer bie 2fnbad)t Ietf)t Ijofjereg SeBen bem Stein* 
Sfta^er gerMt ift ber 9flen[d) an ben 9ftenfd)en* (£nger 

nrirb urn ifyn, 
Sieger ertuadjt, eg unwept rafter fidj in tym bic 

SBeft 
©tef), ba entBrennen in feurigem $ampf bie eifernben 

jftafte, 
©rof eg wtrfet itjr ©trett, ©rofjereg nurfet tfjr 35unb 
Saufenb £anbe BeleBt ein ©etft, fjodj fd)(aget in tan* 

fenb 



224: 

Ye, like the soil ye till, care not to murmur at 
Law. 

All your wishes are bounded by the return of the har- 
vest ; 

Swift, as your every-day work, life and its cares roll 
away. 

But who robs me at once of the heavenly prospect ? 
A stranger 

Spirit diffuses itself suddenly over the scene. 

Carefully all is removed which would not harmoni- 
ously mingle ; 

All is uniform here ; like follows like to the end. 

Bank and terrace I see — the poplars ranged along 
yonder 

Sweep, in well-ordered array, proudly and splendidly 
by; 

All is by rule, and all designed, and all has a mean- 
ing. 

This long menial throng tells of the lord of the 
land ; 

Shining announce his abode the far-flashing cupolas 
yonder ; 

From its kernel of rock towers the city aloft. 

Back to the wilderness driven, the Fauns have deserted 
the grove here, 

But Devotion imparts holier life to the stone. 

Man is brought nearer to man ; the world grows nar- 
rower round him, 

And to motion and life wakes the deep world in him- 
self. 

See, there kindles the fiery strife of emulous forces ; 

Great things worketh their strife, greater their mutual 
toil. 

Thousand hands one spirit inspires ; high beats in a 
thousand 



225 

SBriifbtt, son etn em ©efitt)! gtittjenb, etn etnjtgeg 

(Sd)tagt fiir bag 23aterlanb nnb gliU)t fitr ber Slfjnen 

©efe£e; 
#ier auf bent tfjenren ©rnnb rnt)t ttjr fcere^rteg 

©eftein* 
Sftteber jtetgcn t>om ipimmel bie feligert ©otter uttb 

net) men 
3n bem gettettjten ©ejirf feftlic&e ©D^nungett etn; 
£erritd)e ©aben oefd)erenb erfd)einen fte: (£ereg fcor 

alien 
33ringet beg pflngeg ©efdjenf, £ermeg ben 2tnfer 

tyerbei, 
Sacdjng bie £ranoe, 9ftineroa beg DelBanm^ gritnenbe 

£Retfer, 
5Iuc^ bag friegrifdje 3fto§ fitljret ^ofeibon fjeran, 
Gutter §r>be(e fpannt an beg SSageng 2)eicfyfel btc 

Somen, 
3n bag gafKidje Zfyov jie^t fte alg JBiirgerin ein» 
£eilige (Steine! Sing endj ergoffen jtdj ^Pflanjer ber 

9Jtenfd^eit 
giernen 3nfeln beg 9fteerg fanbtet tfjr ©ittett unb 

$unjl, 
2Betfe fpradjen bag 9ted)t an biefen gefefligen SHjoren; 
"pelben fturgcn snm ^ampf fiir bie s ])enaten fyerang. 
2lnf ben 9ftauern erfd)ienen, ben ©augling im 2lrme, 

bie 9Mtter, 
SBIidEtcn bem £eer$ng na$, big i§n bie $erne ijer* 

fc^Iang. 
33etenb ftitrjten fie bann ttor ber ©otter Slltaren ftdj 

meter, 
gle§ten nm Sftu^m nnb Sieg, flefyten urn JRitdfetjr 

fitr en$. 

©filler* ffimmtt. SDerle. L 15 



225 

Breasts, all glowing alike, one irresistible heart, — 
5eats for the Fatherland, and glows for the laws of 

the fathers ; 
Here on the hallowed ground rest their respected re- 
mains. 
Down from Heaven descend the blessed Immortals, 

and choose them 
In the sanctified grove festal and favored abodes ; 
Lordly blessings bestowing they greet us ; Ceres, the 

foremost, 
Brings us the gift of the plough ; Hermes the anchor 

therewith ; 
Bacchus the grape ; and Minerva the flourishing sprig 

of the olive ; 
And the warrior steed leads the great Neptune 

along ; 
Mother Cybele yokes to the chariot-beam her two 

lions, 
And like a dweller of earth enters our civic abode. 
Holiest statues ! From you the seeds of Humanity 

spread them ; 
To the far isles of the sea sent ye both Manners and 

Art. 
Sages administered justice within these social gates ; 

hence 
Heroes rushed forth to the fight, ready to die for their 

Gods. 
Here has the mother stood, her child in her arms, on 

the ramparts, 
Gazing after the host, till it had dwindled from 

sight ; 
Prostrate then has knelt before the altars, adoring, 
Praying that fame might be yours, praying that ye 

might return. 



226 



Sfjre marb zvi§ unb <2ieg, bodj ber Sftuljm nur Tetjrte 

guriicJe; 
Surer ST^atert QSerbienfi melbet ber riifjrenbe (Stetnt 
„2Banberer, fommft bu nacfy ©parra, tterfiinbige borten, 

bu t>abeft 
Ung ^ier ttegen gefeBn, ir»te bag ©efe{3 eg feefafjL" 
Sftufyet fanft, ifyr ©elie&ten! Son eurem 33Iute begoffen, 
(Srihtet ber Detbaum, eg !eimt tuftig bie foftlidje <Baat 
hunter entbrennt, beg Stgenffyumg frotj, bag frete 

©emerbe, 
$lu$ bem @d)ilfe beg ©tromg minfet ber blautidjte 

(3otL 
3if(^enb fliegt in ben 23aitm bie 2Xj:t, eg erfeufet bte 

X)rpabe, 
£odj son beg Sergeg fyaupt jliirgt fid) bie bonnernbe 

8afh 
Slug bem $etgbru$ miegt ftd) ber (Stein, ttom £ebel 

befliigelt; 
3n ber ©ebtrge ©djludjt tauc^t ftdj ber 23ergmann 

IjtnaK 
SDMciberg 2Imbog tont son bem Xatt gefdjtoungener 

jammer, 
Unter ber nemgten $auft fpri^ett bie ^uttfett beg 

©taljlg. 
©Iatt3enb umminbet ber golbene 2etn bie tangenbe 

©pinbet, 
£)urdj bie Saiten beg ©arng faufet bag mebenbe 

©<§ift 
$ern auf ber £R^ebe ruft ber $ttot, eg marten bie gotten, 
£)te in ber gremblinge Sanb tragen ben ^eimifdjen 

$tei§; 
2fttbre jie^n frofjlodenb bort ein mit ben ©aben ber 

gerne, 



226 

Tame was yours, and success, but all that returned 
was your glory ; 

That ye worthily fell, weeping, we read on your tomb : 

"Traveler, art thou going to Sparta f Go tell whom 
thou meetest, 

That in glory we sleep, true to the laws of the land.''' 1 

Gently rest, ye beloved ! The blood ye have squan- 
dered so freely 

Makes the olive-tree green, ripens the full-swelling 
grain. 

Busily glows each honest trade, in the joy of possess- 
sion, 

From the sedge of the stream winks the Cerulean 
God. 

Hissing the axe flies into the oak, then sighs the lone 
Dryad ; 

High from the mountain's head rushes the thunder- 
ing weight. 

From the quarry up-s wings the rock, with levers to 
wing it ; 

Down deep caves in the hills safely the miner de- 
scends. 

Mulciber's anvil rings to the regular stroke of the 
hammer, 

Under the sinewy arm scatter the sputtering sparks ; 

Gleaming the golden flax winds round the fluttering 
spindle, 

Through the strands of the yarn whistles the shuttle 
at work ; 

Far on the roads cries out the pilot ; the ships are all 
waiting, 

"Which to far-away shores waft our home-products 
abroad ; 

Others sail joyfully in, deep-fraught with treasures of 
ocean ; 



227 



$cfy son bent ragenben 9ft a fl tt>eBct b?r fefttidje $ran^ 
©ietye, ba nnmmeln bie SSftarfte, ber .ftrafyn son fro^U* 

(^em £eBett, 
©eltfamer ©pradjen ©ettnrr' braufi in bag ttim* 

bernbe Df)r* 
5tnf ben (Stapel fdjitttet bie Srnten ber Srbe ber $auf* 

tncmn, 
3Qa$ bem gtitl)enben (Strati 2Ifrifag 23oben gebiert, 
SSa^ Slrabien fod)t, wa^ bie du^erfte £fjule bereitet, 

£o$ mit erfreuenbem ©ut fitttt 2lmattl)ea bag £ortt. 

2)a gebieret bag ©litd bem Salente bie gotrlidjen $inber, 

SSonber greifyeit gejaugt tvafyfen bie $itnjte ber Shtjh 

Wtit nadja^menbem Seben erfreuet ber Silbner bie 2fugen» 

Unb som Sftetjjel befeelt, rebel ber fiiljlenbe ©tetn. 
^un(tltd)e£immei rutjn auf ftfyfanfen jonifdjen ©aulen, 
Unb ben gan^en Dfymp fdj(te§et ein ^antfjeon ein* 
Setdjt toie ber 3>rt3 Sprung burdj bie Suft, hne ber 

spfetl »on ber ©enne, 
£iipfet ber 23rucfe 3o$ itber ben branfenben (Strom* 
2lber im ftiffen ©emad) enttirirft bebeutenbe 3^^ 
©innenb ber SCeife, fcef$letdjt forfdjenb ben fc^af* 

fenben ©eifr, 
$riift ber (stoffe ©etoaft, ber Sftagnete £af[en unb 

£ieben, 
golgt burdj bie Siifte bem $lang, folgt burd) ben 

2Ietijer bem (Stratjl, 
(Eudjt ba^ oertraute ©efe£ in beg 3ufatfg graufenben 

SBunbern, 
<&u$t ben ruljenben ^olin ber (Srfd)einungen $Iudjr. 
$6rper unb ©timme lei^t bie ©djrift bem jhtmmen 

©ebanfen, 
£)urdj ber 3a$r$unberte Strom tragt tfjn bag re* 

benbe 33Iatt. 



227 

High from the towering mast waves the gay festival 

wreath. 
See how the markets are swarming. The hum of 

busy existence [ear ; 

And the confusion of tongues roar on the wondering 
On the staple the merchant pours the fruits of the 

season, — 
All that to burning suns Africa's soil ever bears — 
All that Arabia cooks — all farthermost Thule gets 

ready ;— [horn. 

High with all-gladdening goods fills Amalthea her 
There Opportunity bears to Genius heavenly children ; 
Suckled at Freedom's breast, flourish the beautiful 

Arts. [freshes ; 

There with life-like forms our eyes the sculptor re- 
Woke by the chisel to life, speaks the all-eloquent 

stone. [pillars ; 

Heavens, which Art made, rest on slender Ionian 
All Olympus at once in the Pantheon attends ; 
Light, as the rainbow's arch in the air, or as arrow 

from bow-string, [stream. 

Leaps the light bridge's yoke over the murmuring 
But in his silent chamber, casting significant circles, 
Thoughtful studies the sage, secrets of Nature to 

catch, [and repulses, 

Tries what solids weigh most, what the magnet woos 
Follows sound through the air, follows the flash 

through the skies, [wonders, 

Seeks the low whispered law in accident's terrible 
Seeks the motionless Pole, fixed 'mid appearances' 

flight. 
Body and voice to his untold thought are imparted 

by writing, 
Down through centuries' stream borne on the eloquent 

leaf. 



228 



©a jerrtnnt sor bem nmnbernben 33fltf ber 9leBeI beg 

Unb bie ©eMlbe ber 9?adjt fteidjen bem tagenben 

(Seine gejfeCn ger^rid^t ber 9ftenf$» T)tx 23egTiicfte! 

Berrtjf' er 

2fttt ben geffeln ber ^nrdjt nnr tttdjt ben 3«3^ &** 

greiljeit! ruft bie 23ernnnft, gretijett! bte tr-ilbe S3e* 

gierbe, 
55on ber tjeiFgett 9tatnr ringen fte liiflern jtdj log* 
21$, ba retpen im (Sturm bie %nhv, bie an bent lifer 
SBarnenb tfyn ^ielten, tyn fagt mdcfytig ber flutfjenbe 

(Strom; 
3ng Unenbtidje retgt er itjn fyitt; bie ^iifte oerfcfynunber, 
£od) anf ber gluten ©efeirg nuegt fic^ entmaftet 

ber $al)n; 
Winter $3 otf en er!ofd)en beg 2Bageng Be^arrli^e (Sterne, 
SMeioenb ift nid)tg me$r, eg irrt fel6ft in bent 23ufen 

ber ©ott 
Sing bem ©efpradje serfdjtoinbet bie S33at;r^eit, ©lau* 

ten nnb STrcuc 
2ln^ bem Men, eg liigt felb ft anf ber £ippe ber 

(Scfynmr* 
3n ber £ergen i>ertrauli$fien SBunb, in ber Stc^e ©e- 

Jjeimntfi 
£)rangt ftc^ ber (Spfop^ant, reigt son bem greunbe 

ben greunb, 
Stuf bie Unf^nlb f^ielt ber SSerrat^ mit oerfdjtingen* 

bem Slide, 
Sfftit sergiftenbem 23t£j tobet beg £aftererg 3^«» 
$eil ift in ber gefcfycmbeten S3rujt ber ©ebatife,bie£ie$e 
SCirft beg freien ©efit^lg gottlidjen $bel tyinweg* 



228 

Melt before his wondering gaze the mists of delu- 
sion, 

And the phantoms of night vanish at coming of 
day. 

Man breaks off his fetters, the Blessed ! — but, O ! may 
he never 

With the fetters of fear sunder the bridle of shame ! 

Freedom ! first shouts Eeason ; — Freedom ! the echo- 
ing Passions, 

And from Nature's restraint eagerly wrest themselves 
free. 

Ah ! now burst in the storm the anchors, which warn- 
ingly held it 

Close to shore, and the stream hurries it swiftly 
away; 

On to the Infinite blindly it sweeps, the coasts disap- 
pearing, 

High on the billowy waste tosses the boat without 
mast, 

'Neath dark clouds the constant stars of the Wain 
are extinguished, 

Nothing is fixed, but errs even the God in the breast. 

Truth has vanished from talk ; no faith or constancy 
longer 

Sweetens life ; 'tis a lie— even the oath on the lips. 

Into the heart's close bond, into love's mysterious 
union 

Sycophant thoughts intrude ; friend is soon sundered 
from friend ; 

Treachery looks askaunt, at Innocence hungrily glar- 
ing, 

While with poisonous tooth Calumny secretly kills. 

Base are the thoughts that dwell in the breast dis- 
honored, and Love throws 

All its heaven-born worth, all its best feelings away ; 



229 



Detner fjeitiotn 3^^ e ^/ o SBafjrtjeit, fiat ber 33etrug ftdj 
Slngemaft, ber ^latur fojUidjjfe f&ttmnten entfteitjt, 
£>ie bay fcebitrftige iperj in ber greube Drang fid) er* 

ftnbet j 
Staum gifct tuafjreg ©efiiljl nod) burdj 23erftummen 

fid) ftmb. 
5luf ber tribune prafjlet bag Sftedjt, in ber Jpiitte bie 

Smtradjt, 
£)eg ®efe£eg ©efpenft ftetjt an ber ^onige SHjron* 
3atjre lang mag, 3af)rftunberte tang bie 9ftumie bauern, 

9Jkg bag triigenbe 33ilb lebenber gillie oeftefyn, 
23ig bie 9?atur ern>ad)t, unb ntit fdjmeren, e^ernen 

Jpanben 
2ftt ba^ f)oljle ®?Vau rittjret bie 9?otf) unb bie 3^tt, 
(Stner £igertn gtetd), bie bag eiferne ©itter burd)brod)en 
Unb beg numtbifdjen 2£albg pto^lid) un)) fdjredlidj 

gebenft, 
Slnffte^t mtt beg 23erbred)eng SSutlj nnb beg ©lenbg 

bie 9ftenfctjf)etr, 
Unb in ber 2lfdje ber @tabt fitdjtbie tterlorne ^larur* 
O f fo offttet tuft), banern unb gefct ben ©efangenen 

lebig ! 
3u ber sertaffenen §tur fetjr 1 er gerettet jnritcl! 
Stber w Mn id)? (£g Mrgt ft<% *er $fab* 2tBfd)ufftge 

©riinbe 
£emmen mit gatjnenber $Iuft, Winter mtr, uor mix 

ben @d)ritt* 
Winter mir clieb ber (Mrten, ber Qt&tn sertraute S3e= 

glettung, 
Winter mir jeglid)e ©pur menfcfyiicfyer £anbe guritd* 
9to bie ©tojfe fe^ 1 id) getfyurmt, au^ mlfytn bag 

Seben 
$etmet, ber rotje 33afalt f)offt anf bie bilbenbe Qaxti. 



229 

All thy holiest signs, O Truth, hath wicked Delusion 
Stolen, and basely profaned Nature's own heavenly 

tones, [discovered ; — 

Which the over-full heart for its own best joys had 
Scarce does a feeling, that's true, even through silence 

appear. [the cottage ; 

Justice vaunteth herself in the court, and Peace in 
Only the spectre of Law stands by the royal throne. 
Long will the mummy endure ; for years and centu- 
ries longer 
"Will this empty deceit, shadow of fulness remain, 
Until Nature awakes, until with a grasp, as of iron, 
Time and Necessity, both, shake the old scaffolding 

down. 
As the mad tigress, when the bars of her prison are 

broken, 
Of her Numidian woods suddenly, frightfully thinks, — 
So shall man's fury arise, by guilt and by misery 

sharpened, 
And in the grave of the State seek for lost Nature 

again. 
O then, open, ye walls, and give the lone prisoner 

freedom, 
To his deserted abode bid him in safety return ! — 
But where now ? — I'm lost — The ground slopes sud- 
denly downwards, 
And with a yawning abyss hems me behind and 

before. 
Garden and grove I have left, and the hedge that was 

running beside me ; 
Far behind me I've left every vestige of man ; 
Bound me are piled the hard rocks, whence Art her 

living creations 
Fashions ; — the rugged basalt waits for the architect's 

hand. 

36 



230 

SBraufenb (iurjt ber ©iefjfcadj {jet-aft burdj bie Sfttnne 

beg gelfett, 
ttnter ben 2Bur$etn beg 23aumg Brid)t er entritjlet 

ftd) 33a$n* 
2Mb tjl eg ^ter unb fdjauerlid) ob\ 3m einfamen 

Suftraum 
£angt nur ber 2lbler unb fnii^ft an bag ©ewolfe bie 

Sfcft. 
£odj fjerauf Bt« gu mir tragi fetneg SBinbeg ©efteber 
£)en serlorennt ©<$afl menfd)lid)er Wlutjtn unb Sufi* 
2Mn tdj tetrfftdj afletn? 3» beinen 2Irmen, an bcinem 
£ergen aneber, 9ktur, adjl unb eg war nur eitt 

Zxaum, 
£>er mid) fd^aubernb ergriff, mit beg 2eBeng furdjtBarem 

SBilbe, 
SSftit bem fturgenben £tjat ftitrgte ber fhtftre $htaK 
Reiner net^m' idj mein SeBen son beinem reinen SHtare, 
9cefymeben frofytidjen Siftutfy fyojfenber 3«0cnb gurud 
©wig wedjfelt ber SGitte ben 3^ un *> ^ ie Sflegcl, in 

emig 
SBiebertjolter ©eflatt toalgcn bte £§aten ftdj urn* 
2TBer jugenblid) immer, in immer seranberter @d)onc 

@§rjt bu, fromme 9tatur, gu^tig bag alte ®efe£! 
3mmer biefelBe, Bemafyrfi bu in treuen £>anben bem 

9)?anne, 
SSag bit bag gaufelnbe $inb, wag bir ber SuxiofinQ 

ijertraut, 
SftaBreft an aletdjer 23ruft bie sielfad) roedjfefnben 5Tlter; 

Unter bemfelBen 23lau, iiBer bem namltdjen ©rim 
SCanbeln bie natjen unb wanbeln herein! bte fernen 

©efd)Ied)ter, 
Unb bie (Sonne £omerg, ftel)e! fie Iad)elt au§ un%* 



230 

Koaring along through the cleft rock rolls the thun- 
dering torrent, 
Under the roots of the tree angrily forcing its way. 
Wild is it here, and dreary and lone. In the desolate 

air-space 
Hangs the eagle alone, joining the world to the clouds. 
High o'er all I stand here, where no feathery zephyr 
Wafts one faintest sound up from man's busy abode. 
Am I then truly alone ? in thine arms safely reposing, 
Nature ? and close to thy heart V and it was only a 

dream, [wildness 

Which so shuddering seized me ? Here 'mid reality's 
With the deep plunge of the vale plunged the dark 

phantom away. [ence, 

Purer from thy pure altars receive I back my exist- 
Gladly receive I my youth's gay elasticity back ; 
Ever changes man's will its end and its rule ; and 

forever 
In unaltering course deeds and events roll on. 
But thou, youthful as ever, forever renewing thy 

beauty, 
Pious Nature, dost still chastely observe the old Law. 
Ever the same, to the man thy hands do faithfully 

render 
What from the fanciful child, what from light youth 

they receive ; 
Thou on one breast dost suckle the changeful succes 

sion of ages ; 
Under the self-same blue, on the same wide-spreading 

green [united, 

Wander the nearest races, and wander the farthest 
And the Sun of old Homer, see ! it is smiling on us. 

John S. Dwight. 



231 
Jas c$ub von fox $fodie. 

Vivos voeo. Mortuos plango. Fulgura frango. 

Sejt gemanert in bet Stben 
©tetyt bte gorm au$ Sefjm geBrannt 
Jpente muf; Me ©lode Herbert! 
Srtfcfy, ©efettett, fetb gur £anb I 

SSon ber ©time tjetg 

Sftinnen muj ber ©cfytoetfj, 
©oil bag 2Berf ben Sftetfter loBen; 
S)odj ber ©egen fommt son often* 

3«m SBerfe, bag totr crnjl Bereiten, 
©egtemt ftdj tootjt ein em (leg 2Bort; 
SBentt gute 3teben fte Begleiten, 
£)ann fliegt bte Arbeit ntunter fort 
@o lag t nng jefct mit glei§ Betra^tett, 
2Bag bnrd) bte fd)mad)e $raft entfpringt; 
£)en fcfyledjten 9ftartn muf man oeracfyten, 
£)er nie Bebadjt, toag er ootl6ringt 
£)ag tft'g jia, ioag ben 2ftenfcfyen gieret, 
Unb bagn ioarb t^m ber $erftanb, 
2)a£j er im innern ^er^en fpnret, 
$Qa$ er erfdjafft mit fetner «$?anb, 

Sftetjmet £otj oom $td)tenfkmme, 
£)odj red^t trocfen lag t eg fein, 
SDag bie etngepre§te $Iamme 
©djlage^u bem (Scfytoald) f)tnein! 

tfo<$t beg ^npferg 23ret! 

©djnett bag Qinn fyerftet, 
£)a£j bte ga^e ©lodenfpetfe 
§(iege nadj ber redjten SBetfe! 






231 

THE SOXG OF THE BELL.* 

Vivos Voco. Moetuos Plango. Fulgttra Frango. 

In" the earth, now firmly planted, 

Stands the mould of well-burnt clay. 
Brisk ! my lads, your strength is wanted, 
"We must make the bell to-day ! 
From the heated brow, 
Sweat must freely flow, 
So the work the master showeth ; 
Yet the blessing Heaven bestoweth. 

The work, we earnestly are doing 

Befitteth well an earnest word ; 
Then Toil goes on, more cheerly flowing, 

When good discourse is also heard. 
So let us then with care now ponder 

What through weak strength originates ; 
To him no reverence can we render, 

Who never heeds what he creates. 
'Tis this indeed that man most graceth, 

For this 'tis his to understand, 
That in his inner heart he traceth, 

What he produces with his hand. 

Take the wood, from pine trunks riven, 
Dry it must be through and through, 
That the flame, straight inward driven, 
Fiercely strike into the flue I 
Let the copper brew ! 
Quick the tin in, too ! 
That the tough bell-metal going, 
Through the mould be rightly flowing. 



* See Note m. 



232 

2Ba3 in be3 DammeS tiefer ©ru&e 
Die ipanb mit geuerS ipilfe bout, 
£0$ auf be3 StjurmeS ©locfenftu&e, 
Da ttirb e$ son un» sengen taut 
9?o$ bauern mirb'3 in [paten £agen 
Unb riiljren ttieter 9ftenfdjen Dfyx, 
Unb tr-irb mit bent 23etritfctcn flagen, 
Unb ftimmen gu ber 2Inbad)t Sljor* 
$Ba3 unten tief bent Srbenfo^ne 
Das tr>ed)felnbe 23erf)angnifj fcrtngt, 
Da3 fdjlagt an bie metatlne $rone, 
Die e3 erftanlicfy tteiter Hingt 

SBeife SSIafen fe^ 1 i$ fpringen; 
SOBo^II bie gttaffen ftnb int gluf, 
Sagt'g mit 5tfd)enfala burc^bringen, 
Das fceforbert fcfyneK ben ©ug* 

5{ud) ttom ©cfyaume rein 

9ftu{? bie 9ftifd)nng fetn, 
Da$ i?om reinlicfyen SJZetaHe 
Sftein unb »ott bie (Stimme fdjaHe* 

Denn mit ber $reube $eierflange 
SBegritft fte bag gelieBte ^inb 
5Iuf feineS Sefceng erftem ©ange, 
Den e3 in (SdjIafeS 2Irm Beginnt; 
3$m ru^en nodj im geirenfdjoojje 
Die f^roarjen unb bie fjeitern £oofej 
Der 9ftutterliebe garte ©orgen 
53en>ad)en feinen gotbnen Sftorgen — 
Die 3afrre fltefyen pfeilgef^tmnb. 
55cm 9ttab$en retf t fldj flolg ber $naBe, 
(Sr ftitrmt ins SeBen nulb IjinauS, 
Durdjmtfjt bie SCelt am 2Banberfta$e, 



232 

"What in the pit, by help of fire, 

The hand of man is forming thus, 
High in the belfry of the spire, 

There will it tell aloud of us. 
Still will it last while years are rolling, 

And many hearts by it be stirred, 
"With all the mourner's woes condoling, 

And with Devotion's choir accord. 
Whate'er this changing life is bringing, 

Here down beneath, to Earth's frail son, 
Strikes on the metal crown, which, ringing, 

Will monitory sound it on. 

Bubbles white I see appearing ; 

Good ! the mass is melted now. 
Throw in salts, the fluid clearing, 
They will help it quick to flow. 
Clean too from the scum 
Must the mixture come, 
That in metal pure abounding, 
Pure and full the bell be sounding. 

For, with joyous, solemn meaning, 

The child beloved it soon will greet 
Upon his life's first walk beginning, 

Wrapt in the arms of Slumber sweet ; 
For him yet rest in Time's dark bosom 
Funereal wreath and joyous blossom ; 
A mother's tender cares adorning 
With watchful love his golden morning, — 

The years, — they fly like arrows fleet. 
The maiden's plays the proud boy scorneth, 

He rushes forth, the world to roam 
With pilgrim's staff, at last returneth, 



233 

$remb fetjrt er fyim ttt$ SSatcr^auS* 
Unb fcerrlidj, in ber 3«gcnb $rangen, 
SSte ein (Mnlb ang £immeIg()oI)n, 
Sfttt 3ud)ttgcn, tterfdjamtert SBangen 
<2iel)t er bte 3ungfran oor fid) fte^tt* 
©a fa ft ein nantenlofeg ©efynen 
2)eg 3iinglingg Jperg, er irrt a Hem, 
9lng feinen 2Ingen Bremen £§ranen, 
(Sr flte^t ber Sriiber toilben Sfteitj'ru 
Srrot^enb fotgt er ifyren ©puren 
Unb ift oon ifyrem ®rnfj oegliidr, 
2)a^ @d)onfie fud^t er anf ben ftluxtn, 
SBomit er feine Siefce fdjmitdh 
D aarte <5etjnfu$t, fitfeg ^> o ffen I 
3>r erften £teoe golbne ^titl 
Qat Singe jte^t ben iptmmet offeit, 
(Eg fdnr>elgt bag £era in ©eltgfeit; 
£), baf fie enug grimen fclieoe, 
3Me fd)5ne Qtit ber jnngen 2iebe! 

SBie ftdj fdjon bie $fetfen fcraunen! 
£>iefeg (Stamen rand?' idj ein, 
©e^n toir'g iiberglaft erfdjeinen, 
SBtrb'S %\xm (Shtjfe geittg fetru 

3efct, ©efeflen, frif<§! 

$titft mir bag ©emtfdj, 
Do ba^ ©probe ntit bem S3eid)en 
©idj sereint 3am gnten 3ti(fym. 

3>nn too baa ©trenge mit bem garim, 
3©o (Starlet fid) nnb Sftilbes paarten, 
S)a gibt e^ etnen guten $lang, 
£)rnm priife, toer fid) enng Mnber, 
£)p fid) bag £era anm ^er^en ftnbet! 



233 

A stranger in his father's home. 
And brilliant, in her youthful splendor, 

Like creature come from Heaven's height, 
With cheeks all mantling, modest, tender, 

The maiden stands before his sight. 
A nameless longing then is waking 

In the youth's heart ; he strolls alone ; 
The tears from out his eyes are breaking ; 

Joy in his brothers' sports is gone. 
He blushes as her steps he traces, 

Her greeting smile his heart elates, 
For fairest flowers the fields he searches, 

Wherewith his love he decorates. 
O tender longing, hope delicious, 

The golden time of young first love, 
The eye beholdeth heaven open, 

Revels the heart in bliss above ! 
Oh that, forever fresh and vernal, 
First love's sweet season were eternal I 



See how brown the pipes are getting I 

This little rod I dip it in, 
If it show a glazed coating, 
Then the casting may begin. 
How, my lads, enough ! 
Prove me now the stuff, 
The brittle with the soft combining, 
See if they be rightly joining. 

For when the Strong and Mild are pairing, 
The Manly with the Tender sharing, 

The chord will then be good and strong. 
See ye, who join in endless union, 
That heart with heart be in communion ! 



234 

Der SBatjn i|i fur^, toe sReu 1 t(r lang* 

£ieMid) in ber 33raute Sotfen 

(spiel* ber iungfrauftdje $rcm$, 

SBenn bie Ijeffen $ird)engfoden 

Saben $u beg f^ejlre^ ©Ian$. 

2ldj! be^ Se&eng fdjonjte geter 

(Snbtgt au§ ben £eBen£mai, 

Sftit bem (Mrtel, nut bent ©dieter 

SRetjjt ber fd)6ne $3cu)n entjmeu 

3Dte ^eibenf^aft fCte^t, 

Die SteBe muf bleibenj 

Die S31nme <oerbIui)t, 

Die grud)t muf treiben* 

Der Sftann mnf ^inaug 

3nS feinblid^e Seben, 

9ttu£ nurfen unb ftreBen 

Unb pflanjen unb fdjaffen, 

(Srltften, errajfen, 

9ftufj metten unb toagen, 

Dag ®lii(f ^u erjagen. 

Da (hornet tyeroet bie unenbtid>e ©aoe, 

(£g fittlt (tdj ber ©peid^er mtt fojHidjer JpaBc; 

Die Staume toad)fen, eg be^nt ftdj bag £aug* 

Unb brinnen walret 

Die gudjtige ipaugfrau, 

Die Gutter ber Winter, 

Unb Ijerrfdjet toeife 

3m tydusUdjett $retfe, 

Unb letjret bie Sftdbdjen, 

Unb mefyret ben $naoen, 

Unb regct otjn' (Snbe 

Die fleifjigett .Spanbe, 

Unb me^rt ben G&ennmt 



234 

For Fancy 's brief, Repentance long. 
Lovely round the bride's locks clinging, 
' Plays the virgin coronal, 
When the merry church-bells ringing 

Summon to the festival. 
Ah ! the hour of life most festal 

Ends the May of Life also, 
With the veil, and girdle vestal 
Breaks the lovely charm in two. 
For Passion will fly, 

But Love is enduring, 
The flower must die, 
Fruit is maturing. 
The man must be out 
In hostile life striving, 
Be toiling and thriving, 
And planting, obtaining, 
Devising and gaining, 
And daring, enduring, 
So fortune securing ; 
Then riches flow in, all untold in their measure, 
And filled is the garner with costliest treasure ; 
The store-rooms increase, the house spreadeth out, 
And in it presides 
The chaste gentle housewife, 
The mother of children, 
And ruleth metely 
The household discreetly ; 
The maidens she traineth, 
The boys she restraineth, 
And work never lingers, 
So busy her fingers, 
Increasing the gains 



235 



Wlit orbnenbem ©inn, 
Unb fitHct mit ©^a^eit bte buftenben £aben 
Unb brefyt urn bie fcfynurrenbe ©pinbef ben gaben, 
Unb f am melt im reinlid) gegtatteten (Bdjretrt 
£)ie fd)immernbe 2Bo(Ie, ben fdjneetdfytm Settt, 
Unb fiiget gum ®uten ben ©lang unb ben ©djimmer, 
Unb rufyet mmmer* 

Unb ber SSater mit frotyem f&lid, 
SSon beg ipaufeg meitfdmuenbem ©ieBet 
UeBergafylet fein BHifyenb ©liid, 
(Stefyet ber $foftenragenbe S3aume 
Unb ber ©cfyeunen gefitllte dl'dumt 
Vnfc bie ©petd)er, oom ©egen gebogen, 
Unb beg ,ftorneg Bercegte 2Bogen, 
Sftitfymt (td^ mit jtoljem SSftunb: 
gefl, nue ber Srbe ©runb, 
©egen beg Ungfudg 9#a$t 
©teljt mir be^ £aufeg $radjt! 
£)od) mit beg ©efd)ideg m'afytm 
3ft fein enj'ger 23unb gu fled) ten, 
Unb bag Unglud fd)reitet fdjnetL 

SBotjl! nun fann ber ®ujji Begtnnen; 
©dfoon gegadet ijl ber 23rudj* 
£)odj, Beoor nur'g laffen rinnen, 
SBetet einen frommen (Sprud)! 

©tojjjt ben 3 a Pf en au ^ ' 

©ott Bemafyr 1 bag $au$l 
0taud)enb in beg £enfelg 33ogen 
©djiejjf g mit feuerBraunen SBogen* 

2Boljlt$attg ift beg geuerg Sfla^t, 
SQznn fte ber SSftenfd) Be.^atjmt, Bemacfyt, 
Unb mag er Bilbet, \va$ er fd^afft, 



235 

With ordering pains, 
And sweet-scented presses with treasure is filling, 
And thread round the swift humming spindle is 

reeling, 
And the neat burnished chests, — she gathers them full 
Of linen snow-white, and of glistering wool, 
The gloss and the shine to the good she adds ever, 
And resteth never. 

And the father with look elate, 
From the high far-seeing gable. 
Surveys his blooming, broad estate, 
Seeth his buildings forest-like growing, 
And the barns with their lofts o'erfiowing, 
And the granaries, bent with the blessing, 
And the corn as it waves unceasing ; 
Boasting, with pride-lit face : 
Firm, as the Earth's own base, 
'Gainst all misfortune's strength, 
Standeth my house at length ! 
Yet with mighty Fate supernal, 
Man can weave no bond eternal, 
And Misfortune strideth^fast. 

Be the casting now beginning ; 

Finely jagged is the grain. 
But before we set it running, 
Let us breathe a pious strain ! 
Now knock out the tap ! 
God forbid mishap ! 
Through the bending cannons hollow 
Smoking shoots the fire brown billow. 

Beneficent the might of Flame, 

When man keeps watch and makes it tame. 

In what he fashions, what he makes, 



236 

T)a$ bauft er biefer ipimmel^raft; 

■Docfy furdjtoar feirb bie ipimmelsfraft, 

SBeun fte ber -gejjet ftdj eutrafft, 

(Eiu^ertrttt auf ber etgrteu @pur, 

£)te freie £o$ter ber 9?atur* 

SBe^e, feenu fte lo^gelaffeu, 

2$adjfenb o^ne SBtberjtaub, 

SDurcfy bie sjolffcelefc ten (Dajjen 

SBaljt ben ungebeuren Sraubl 

SDemt bie Slemettte fjajjeu 

£)a$ (Milb ber 9ftettfd)enljaub* 

2tu3 ber SBotfe 

QutHt ber @egeu, 

©tromt ber ^egeu; 

2lu3 ber 2Botfe, o^ne Bafjt, 

3ucft ber (Strati. 

Jport i^r 1 ^ fetmmeru tjodj sent £§urm? 

£)a$ ijt ©turm! 

Sfotfj, feie Slut, 

3ft ber Jptmmel; 

£)a3 tft uicfyt be3 Staged ©lut$l 

2Bel$ ©etiimmet 

©trafeu auf 1 

£)ampf want auf. 

glacferub ftetgt bte fjeucrfaulc, 

£)urd) ber @tra$e lange Qtik 

2Ba$fi eg fort mit SBtubeSeile; 

.ftocfyeub, fete auS £)^n$ Slafytn, 

©lii^tt bie Sitfte, Salfeu fradjeu, 

$)fofteu ftitqeu, geufter tTirren, 

^tuber jammeru, Gutter irreu, 

St^iere fetmmeru 

Uuter Xrummew; 



236 

Help from this Heaven's force he takes. 
But fearful is this force of Heaven, 
When, having all its fetters riven, 
It bursts forth, its own law to be, 
Thy daughter, Nature, wild and free ! 

"Woe ! when once emancipated, 
"With nought her power to withstand, 

Through the streets thick populated, 
High she waves her monstrous brand ! 

By the elements is hated 
What is formed b}- mortal hand. 

From the heavens 

Blessing gushes, 

The shower rushes ; 

From the heavens, all alike, 

Lightnings strike. 

Hear ye not the belfry moan ? 

'Tis the alarm ! 

Blood-red now 
Heaven is flushing ; 

That is not the daylight's glow I 
What a rushing 

Streets all up ! 

Smoke rolls up ! 
The fire column, flickering, flowing, 
Through the long streets swiftly growing, 
With the wind is onward going ; 
As from out a furnace flashing, 
Glows the air, and beams are crashing, 
Pillars tumble, windows creaking, 
Mothers fleeing, children shrieking, 

Cattle lowing 

'Mid the ruin : 



237 

2lHeg rennet, rettet, fliidjtet, 
£ag^eaiftbie^ad)tgelt(i>tet; 
2)nrd) ber ipanbe Uxiqz $ette 
Urn bie ISSette 

gliegt ber (Simer; fjodj tm 23ogen 
@prt£en Snellen SBaffermogem 
£en(enb fommt ber ©turm geflogen, 
S)er bie glamme Braufenb fudjt 
$>raj]elnb in bie bitrre $rnd)t 
gallt fte, in beS ©peidjerS 3^dume, 
3n ber ©parren biirre 33aume, 
Unb aU tr-ollte fte tm 2M)en 
SUM ftc^> fort ber (Srbe SBu^t 
SReif? en in gewalt'ger gludjt, 
2Bad)ft fte in beS ipimmels £otjen 
Sfttefengrofj ! 
^offnnngstoS 

2Beid)t ber Sftenfct) ber ©otterjtarfe, 
Sftitjjjtg ftetjt er feine SBerle 
Unb fcercnnbernb untergefyen, 

SeergeBrannt 
Sjl bie (gtatte, 

SBilber ©tiirme ranges SBette* 
2»n ben oben genfrerfyofyten 
SBofynt bag ®ranen, 
Unb beg Jpimmel^ SBolfen ft^auen 
£odj t)ineim 

(Stnen ©ltd 
5^ac^ bem ®raBe 
(Seiner $abt 

(genbet nod) ber 9ftenf$ jurudf — 
©reift frol;M) "oann jum SBanberftalJe. 



237 

All is fleeing, saving, running, 
Light as day the night 's becoming ; 
Through the chain of hands, all vying, 

Swiftly flying, 
Goes the bucket ; bow-like bending, 
Spouts the water, high ascending. 
Howling comes the blast, befriending 
The flame it roaring seeks and fans. 
Crackling 'midst the well-dried grains, 
Seizing in the granary chambers 
On the dry wood of the timbers, 
And, as if it would, in blowing, 
Tear the huge bulk of the world 
With it, in its flight, uphurled, 
Mounts the flame to heaven, growing 

Giant tall ! 

Hopeless all, 
Man to God at last hath yielded, 
Idly sees what he hath builcled, 
"Wondering, to destruction going. 

All burnt out 

Are the places, 
Where the tempest wild reposes. 
In the vacant windows dreary, 

Horror 's sittirfg, 
And the clouds of heaven, flitting 

High, look in. 

Ere he goes, 

On the ashes, 

Where his riches 
Buried lie, one look man throws, — 
His pilgrim's staff then gladly clutches. 
37 



238 

2Ba3 geiterS 2But§ tfjm au&i gerauBt, 
Sin fitter £roft ift ifym ge&ltekn: 
G?r ga^lt t>te £aupter feiner SieBctt, 
Unb fie^'l U)m fe^It fetn tfyeureS £aupt* 

3n bte @rb' ifTs aufgenomnten, 
©litcfHd) ijl bie gorm gefittlt; 
SBirb'S aufy f$on ju £age fomnten, 
£)a§ e3 gleif unb ^unft ttergiit? 

SBenn ber ©ujj ntiflang? 

SBenn bie $orm gerfprang? 
21$, fcietleidjr, inbem n>ir fyoffen, 
£at un* Unveil fd)on getrojfetn 

2)em bunfeln ©$oo§ ber fjeiPgen Gtrbe 
Sertrauen tt>ir ber £anbe 3%at, 
23ertraut ber ©amann feine <5aat ' 
Unb tyoffr, ba£ fie entfeimen toerbe 
3um ©egen, nad) be3 £tmmels 3fiat§» 
sftotf) foftlidjeren ©amen Bergen 
2Bir tranernb in ber (£rbe <Sd)Oo§, 
Unb f)ojfen, baf er au3 ben ©argen 
SrBIii^en foil su fcfycnerm £oo$, 

23cm bent SDonte, . 
(garner unb bang, 
Stmt bie ®lodt 
©rafcgefang* 

Smjl Begfeiten t$re £rauerf$Iage 
©men SBanbrer auf bem le^ten SBege* 

SXc6)! bie ®attin i$% bie tfjeure, 
Wfyl e3 ijtbte treue Gutter, 
©ie ber f$war$e giirft ber ©cBatien 
SSegfiilirt auS bem 5lrm beS ©atten, 



238 

Whate'er the fire from him hath torn, 
One solace sweet is ever nearest, 
The heads he counteth of his dearest, 

And lo ! not one dear head is gone. 

In the earth it now reposes, 

Happily the mould is full ; 
When our work the light discloses, 

Will it pay our pains and skill ? 
Should the casting crack ? 
If the mould should break ? 
Ah ! perhaps, while we are waiting, 
Mischief is its work completing. 

To holy Earth's dark, silent bosom 

We our handiwork resign, 

The husbandmen the seed consign, 
And hope that it will swell and blossom 

And bless the sower, by laws divine. 
Still costlier seed, in sorrow bringing, 

We hide within the lap of earth, 
And hope that, from the coffin springing, 

'Twill bloom in brighter beauty forth. 

From the belfry, 
Deep and slow, 
Tolls the funeral 
Note of woe. 
Sad and solemn, with its knell attending 
Some new wanderer, his last journey wending. 

Ah ! the wife it is, the dear one ; 
Ah ! it is the faithful mother, 
Whom the angel dark is bearing 
Prom the husband's arms endearing, 



239 

2Tu$ ber garten winter (5$aar, 
£)ie fte Mitfyenb i^m geftar, 
£)ie fte an ber treuett 23rujt 
2Batf>fen fajj mit SJhttterlujt — 
2ldj! be$ £aufe<3 garfe 23anbe 
<5inb geloft auf immerbar 
£>emt fte tocvfjnt im (S^attentattbe, 
SDie beg £aufe3 Gutter tt>ar; 
SDenn eg fe^It ifyr treues SBattett, 
3*)re @orge tt>ad)t ittdjt mefyr; 
2ltt sermaifter ©tatte flatten 
SGirb bie grembe, HeMeer* 

3313 bie ©lode ft$ serfiitjtet, 
%a$t bie ftrenge 2lr6eit rutjtn 
$3ie im %aub ber Sogel ftneler, 
SD^ag fid) jeber giititdj fyun* 

2Bmft ber ©terne £id)t, 

2ebtg aller 3W*, 
Jport ber 25urfd) bie Sefper fdjlagen, 
5D^eifter mup ftdj immer plagetu 

hunter forbert feine <3djritte 
gern im ir-ilbeit $orft ber SBanbrer 
9k$ ber IteBen £etmatl$utte* 
23Iocfenb jie^en tjeim bie @$afe, 
Unb ber 3fftnber 
33reitgeftirnte, glatte (Bfyaaxtn 
^ommen fcrutlenb, 
2)ie geiuoI)ttten @taUe fitffenb* 
@d)toer herein 
<Sfytoanft ber 2Bagen, 
^ornMaben; 



239 

From the group of children far, 
Whom she blooming to him bare ; 
Whom she on her faithful breast 
Saw with joy maternal rest. 
Ah ! the household ties that bound her, 

Are unloosed for evermore, 
For pale shadows now surround her, 

Who the household ruled o'er ! 
For her faithful guidance ceas"es, 

No more keepeth watch her care, 
In the void and orphaned places 

Eules the stranger, loveless there. 



Till the bell be cooled and hardened, 

Let there rest from labor be ; 
And be each as free, unburdened, 
As the bird upon the tree. 
Once the stars appear, 
From all duty clear, 
Workmen hear the vespers ringing ; 
Still to Master care is clinging. 



Joyous haste his bosom swelling, 
In the wild and far-off greenwood, 

Seeks the wanderer his dear dwelling. 
Bleating wind the sheep slow homeward, 

And the kine too, 
Sleek and broad-browed, slowly trooping, 

Come in lowing, 
To the stalls accustomed going. 
Heavy in 
Bocks the wagon, 
Harvest laden. 



240 

33unt butt %axUn, 

2iuf ben ©arben 

£iegt ber ^ranj, 

Unb bag junge SBotl ber (Sdjnttter 

gftegt aunt Sana* 

Sftarft unb (Strafe tnerben (litter; 

Urn beg 2id)tg gefetPge glamme 

©ammeln jtdj bie Jpaugbemotjner, 

Unb bag ©tabtt^or fdjliejjt ftd^ fnarrenk 

©d^warj bebetfet 

<Bid) bie (£rbe; 

£)ocfy ben ftdjem 23itrger fc^recfet 

9ti$t bie SRad&t, 

■Die ben S3ofen graflidj tr-ecfet; 

£)enn bag 2htge beg ©efe{3eg »a$t. 

^eif'ge Drbnung, fegenreicfje 
$immeIgtodjter, bie bag ©teidje 
grei nnb leidjt unb freubig binbet, 
5Die ber ©rabte 23au gegriinbet, 
5Die herein t>on ben ©eftlben 
SRtef ben ungefetTgen SMben, 
(gintrat in ber 3^enfd^en £mttett, 
<Ste gewotjnt gu fanften ©ttten, 
Unb bag t^euerjte ber S3anbe 
SBoB, ben £rieb turn 33arerlanbe! 

Saufenb flei^ge Jpanbe regen, 
£etfen fldj in ntunterm 23unb, 
Unb in feurigem 53en?egen 
SBerben atte ^rafte funb. 
9fteifter rityrt p* unb ®efetfe 
3n ber grei^eit tyeiPgem @$u£; 



240 

Bright with flowers, 
On sheafy towers 

Garlands glance, 
And the younger of the reapers 
Seek the dance. 
Street and market-place grow stiller ; 
Eound the light, domestic, social, 
Gather now the household inmates, 
And the city gate shuts creaking. 
Black bedighted 
All the Earth is ; 
Kest the people unaffrighted 
By the dark, 
Which alarms the bad benighted ; 
For the eye of Law doth watch and mark. 



Holy Order, rich in blessing, 
Heaven's daughter, lightly pressing 
Holds her law all ranks connected. 
Mighty States hath she erected, 
Calling from the wilds the savage 
There to dwell, — no more to ravage, 
Into human huts she goeth, 
And all gentle customs showeth, 
Weaving that dear tie around us, 
Which to Fatherland hath bound us. 



Busy hands, by thousands stirring, 
In a cheerful league unite, 

And it is in fiery motion 

That all forces come to light. 

Briskly work, by Freedom guarded, 
Both the master and the men, 



241 

Seber freut ftdj feiner ©telle, 
SBietet bem SSera^ter SErufc* 
Arbeit ijt beg 23itrgerg 3t^t> 
©egen ift ber SSMtje $retg; 
(5§rt ben $onig feine SBitrbe, 
£§ret ung ber £anbe gleijj. 

Jpolber $riebe, 
©life (gttttratfyt, 
SBeilet, weitet 

greunblidj ii6er biefer <Stabt! 
9ftoge nie ber Sag erfd)einen, 
2Bo beg rau^ett .ftriegeg iporben 
£)iefeg fiitCc St^al bnrcfytoben; 
$3o ber iMmmel, 
£)en beg Slbenbg fanfte Sflijt^c 
Stebttd) matt, 

33on ber ©orfer, son ber (Stabte 
SSiibem Sranbe ftfjrecfficfy ftraljlt! 

9hm gerfcredjt nttr bag ©ebanbe, 
©cine 5X6ftc^t Ijat'g erfuflr, 
£)a§ fid) £er$ unb Singe roeibe 
21n bent toofylgelnngnen 33tfb. 

©cfenMngt ben jammer, fuming:, 

SBU ber banter fpringt! 
28enn bie ©loci' fell attferftetjen, 
Sftnfj bie gorm in ©tiicfen geljen, 

2)er 9fteifter !ann bie gorm gerBredjen 
Sfttt meifer £>anb, gnr recl)ten 3^; 
£)o$ totfyt, ttenn in ^lammenbacljen 
^)ag glitfynbe (Srg ftdj felfcjr Bcfreit L 
SBIinbrouttyenb, tnit beg £)onnerg ^radjen, 
3erfprengt eg bag geborftne $au$, 

©critters fammtt. SBerfe. I. 16 



241 

Each one in his place rewarded, 

Scorning every scoffer then. 
Labor is our decoration, 

Work, the blessing will command, 
Kings are honored by their station, 

Honors us the toil-worn hand. 

Gentle Concord, 

Heavenly Peace, 

Hover, hover, 

Ever friendly o'er this place ! 
ISTever may that clay be dawning 
When the hordes of battle swarming 
Through this silent vale are storming ; 

When the heavens, 
Which, with evening blushing mildly, 

Softly beam, 
Shall with flames, consuming wildly 
Town and cities, fearful gleam ! 

Break me up the useless structure, 

It has now fulfilled its part, 
That the work, without a fracture, 
Joy may give to eye and heart. 
Swing the hammer, swing, 
Till the case shall spring ! 
That the bell to light be given, 
Be the mould in pieces riven. 

The master wise alone is knowing 
Just when the mould should broken be, 

But woe ! when, streams of fire flowing, 
The glowing ore itself sets free ! 

Blind raging, with the crash of thunder, 
It shivers the exploded house, 



242 

Unb tote cms offnem £6tlenra$ert 
©peit e^ SSerberben ^iinbenb au$. 
2©o ro$e ^rfifte fmnlos toalttn, 
£)a fanrt ftcfy fein ©eMlb geftatten; 
SSenn ftdj t>te Golfer fetbft befrein, 
£)a fann bie 28o§lfa$rt ni$t gebeitjn* 

2Be^, ttemt fid) in bent (Scfyooj? bet <5tabte 
£)er geuer^unber ftitt getyauft, 
2)a3 SSoIf, gerrei^enb feine $ette, 
3ur (£tgent)ilfe fdjrecHid) greift! 
£)a jerret att ber ©(ocfe <Strangen 
£)er Smfrntjr, ba§ fie ^ettlenb fcfyaftt 
Unb, nur gemetfyt $u griebenSflangen 
SDte Sofnng anfttmmt aur ©emalt 

$reif)ett unb ©letdjtjettl prt man flatten; 
£>er rulj'ge 23iirger greift jut $3etjr, 
£)ie ©trafen fiillen fid), bie fatten, 
Unb 2Biirgerfcanben jte^tt umtjer* 
£)a toerben SBeifcer $u ^p^anen 
Unb treiBen mit (Sntfe^en ©djerj; 
Sftodj jncfenb, mit be$ $ant|er0 3&$*teti 
3erreif en fte be$ getnbeS Jperj. 
SftidjtS £eiltge3 ift metyr, e3 lofctt 
©idj atle 23anbe frommer ©djeu; 
£>er ®nte raumt ben $)la£ bent 23ofett, 
Unb afte Safter ttalten freu 
©efctyrltdj ift's, ben Sen ju ttecfen, 
SSetberfcltdj ifl be£ tigers 3 a ^; 
3ebodj ber fcfyrecflidjfte ber ©cfyrecfen, 
•Das ift ber 9ftenfd) in feinem $Sa$n. 
2Be§ benen, bie bem (SnugMinben 
£)e$ 2i$te$ £tmmeUfacfet Jei^n! 



242 

As if hell's jaws had yawned asunder, 
Destruction far and wide it throws. 
When brutal force is senseless storming, 
There can no perfect work be forming ; 
When nations seek themselves to free, 
There can no common welfare be. 



Woe ! if heaped up, the fire-tinder 

The inmost heart of cities fill, 
Their fetters rending all asunder, 

The people work their own fierce will ! 
Then at the bell-ropes tuggeth Riot, 

The bell howls forth a wailing sound, 
Sacred to peace alone and quiet, 

For blood it rings the signal round. 

"Equality and Freedom," howling, 

Rushes to arms the citizen, 
And bloody-minded bands are prowling, 

And streets and halls are filled with men 
Then women to hyenas turning, 

On bloody horrors feast and laugh, 
And with the thirst of panthers burning, 

The blood of hearts yet quivering quaff. 
Nought sacred is there more, for breaking 

Are all the bands of pious Awe, 
The good man's place the bad are taking, 

And all the vices mock at law. 
'Tis dangerous to rouse the lion, 

And deadly is the tiger's tooth, 
And yet the terriblest of terrors, 

Is man himself devoid of ruth. 
Alas I when to the ever blinded 

The heavenly torch of Light is lent I 



243 

€>te jiratjTt trjnt ntdjt, fte farm ttur ^itnbert; 
Unb afdjert @tabt 1 unb Sanber tin. 

greube tjat mir ®ott gegeoen 
(£e()et! toie etn golbner ©tern 
Slug ber £mtfe, Man! nub eoen, 
<&&}'alt ftc^ ber metallne $ern* 
SSon bent £elm gum $ran$ 
(Spielfg n?ie ©onnengtan^ 
2htd) beg $3appeng nette (Sdjilber 
£okn ben erfafyrnen 53tlber. 

Jperetn! herein! 
©efetfen aUt, fdjltegt ben JJMIjert, 
2)a§ totr bte ©(ode taufenb toetfjen! 
Gtoncorbta foil iftr 9kme feuu 
Qnx (£tntrad)t, $u ler^innigem Semite 
SSerfammle fte bte UeBenbe ©emetne* 

Unb bteg fet forran tfjr 23eruf, 
SBoju ber 9fletfter fte erfcfyuf ! 
£od) itoerm ntebern Srbenleoen 
(Soil fte im Mauen ipimmetgjelt, 
£)ie ^adjoarin beg Donnerg, fdjtoeoen 
Unb gren^en an bte ©ternentoett, 
<5oU eine ©ttmnte fein son often, 
SBie ber ©eftirne ^elle ©d)aar, 
2)ie ifyren (Stopfer toanbelnb looen 
Unb fitfyren bag oefranjte 3a1jr* 
5^ur etxugen unb ernften £)tngen 
©ei tljr metadner Sftunb getoetfjt, 
Unb fiitnblidj mit ben f^neUen ©djtotngen 
©eritfjr 1 tm gluge fte bie Qtit 
£)em <Sd)idfal leifye fte bte 3wnge; 
©el&ft ^erjlog, o^ne Sftitgefii^I, 



243 

It guides him not, it can but kindle 
Whole States in flames and ashes blent. 

Joy to me now God hath given ! 

Look ye ! like a golden star, 
From the shell, all bright and even, 
Comes the metal-kernel clear. 
Bright from top to rim, 
Like the sun's own beam. 
E'en the 'scutcheon, formed completely, 
Shows its maker worketh neatly. 

Come all ! come all ! 
My comrades, stand around and listen, 
While solemnly our work we christen I 

Concordia we the bell will call. 
To concord and to heartfelt adoration 
Assembling here the loving congregation. 

And this its office be henceforth, 
Whereto the master gave it birth : 
High, this low earthly being over, 

Shall it, in heaven's cerulean tent, 
The neighbor of the thunder, hover, 

And border on the firmament. 
And let it be a voice from Heaven, 

Joined with the starry host afar, 
By which high praise to God is given. 

And which lead on the crowned year. 
Its metal mouth alone devoted 

To sacred and eternal things, 
And hourly, Time, still onward flying, 

Shall touch it with his rapid wings. 
To Destiny a tongue affording, 

Heartless itself, befall what may, 



244 

SBegTeite fte mit tfjrem ©djroimge 
2)eg £eBeng tt>e<fyfeft>otte3 <Spiet- 
Unb rate ber $Iana, im £)§r sergefjet, 
£)er macfytta, tonenb tfjr entfdfyaflt, 
<5o le^re fte, bag ntdjts Beftefjet, 
©ag atteg 3?bifcfye »er$aflt 

3e£o mtt ber $raft beg ©trangeg 
SB teg t bic ®locf mir aug ber ©ruft, 
£)ag fie in bag S^etc^ beg ^langeg 
©tetge, in bic £immelghtft! 

3ie^et, gte^et, *)eBt! 

'©.te Bewegt ftdj, fdjmeBt! 
§reube biefer ©tabt Bebeute, 
griebe fei tfjr erfi (Maute, 



(£tn Sftegenftrom aug gelfenrtffen, 
(£r fommt mit 3)onnerg Ungeftitm, 
SBergtritmmer folgen feinen (Mffen, 
Unb (gidjen ftiirgen unter tfyrn ; 
©rftaunt, mtt ttotfujtooflem ©raufen, 
£ort ifyn ber SBanberer unb laufd^t, 
(£r fyort bte glut!) som gelfen Braufen, 
$Dod) tueig er nidjt, ttofyer fte raufdjt; 
@o ftromen beg ©efangeg SBetfen 
£ett?or aug nie entbedten Quellen. 

SSerBiinbet mit ben furdjtBarn $3efen, 
SDie ftitl beg Meng gaben brefyn, 
2Ber faun beg ©angerg 3auBer lofen, 
2Ber fetnen £onen nuberftelju? 
S53ie mit bem <5taB beg ©otterBoten 



244 

It feels for none, yet shall its swinging 
Attend upon life's changeful play. 

And as away its music fadeth, 
That strikes so grandly on the ear, 

So may it teach that nought abideth, 
That all things earthly disappear. 

Now with strength the rope is lending, 

Raise the bell from out the ground, 
In the atmosphere ascending, 
Let it seek the realms of Sound ! 
Heave it, heave it, raise ! 
Now it moves, it sways ! 
Joy to us may it betoken, 
Peace, the first sound by it spoken. 

William H. Furness. 



THE MIGHT OF SONG. 

A cataract from the clefts descending, 

Jt comes with thunder's mighty force, 
Eude mountain-wrecks its rush attending, 

And oaks uprooted track its course. 
Entranced in soft voluptuous dread, 

The traveler hears, in silence heeding ; 
He hears the roaring flood o'erhead, 

Yet knows not whence the sound proceeding. 
So stream the waves of Song, outpouring 
Through fountains hid from man's exploring. 

Leagued with those awful powers that wind 
The thread of life — a silent band — 

"Who can the minstrel's charm unbind ? 
His strains melodious who withstand ? 

How, with the rod's Hermetic spell, 



245 

iBetjerrfcr^t er bag Beiregte ^er^? 
Sr tauc^t eg in bag Sfcid) ber £obten, 
Sr §tbt eg ftaunenb I)immelmartg, 
Unb nnegt eg gmifdjen Smfi unb Sptete 
3luf fcfymanfer Setter ber ©efii^Ie* 

SSte rcenn auf einmaf in bie ^retfc 

£)er greube, mit ®igantenfd)ritt, 

©eftetmnifjsotl, nad) ©etftemeife, 

(Sin ungefyeureg Sdjicffaf trttt; 

©a Beugt fid) \t\>t Srbengrofje 

£em grembling aug ber anbern lESelt, 

£)eg 3nbelg nid^tigeg ©etofe 

SSerfiummr, unb jebe Sarse fafft, 

Unb ttcr ber SBa^r^eit mac&fgem (Siege 

SBerfcfynu'nbet jebeg SBerf ber Sitge. 

Bo rajft son jeber etteln Siirbe, 
SBenn beg ©efangeg 2tuf erfdwtlr, 
£>er 9ftenfd) jtdj auf ?ur ©etftermurbe 
Unb tritt in Beilige ©eftalt; 
£)en fyoljen ©ottern ift er eigen, 
3§m barf ni$tg 3tbifdjeg ftdj na^n, 
Unb jebe anbre ^Jlac^t mug fcfyttetgen, 
Unb fein 23erfyangni§ fattt ifyn an ; 
(£g fcfrnunben jebeg Slummtxd fatten, 
Bo laug beg Stebeg Qauotx toalten. 

Unb ttie na$ Ijoffnunggtofem Befynm, 
yiafy langer Srennung Bitterm B§mex$, 
(Sin ^inb mit Ijetfjen ^Reuet^ranen 
(Sicb fturjt an feiner Gutter ^erg: 
@o fitJjrt ^u feiner 3ugenb ^putten, 
3u feiner Unfd;ulb retnem ©liuf, 



245 

He curbs the awakened heart's emotion ! — 

Now plunges in the abyss of Hell, 
Now heavenward lifts in rapt Devotion ; 
And sways, 'mid sport and earnest reeling, 
Upon the tremulous scale of feeling. 

— As if into the round of pleasure, 

All suddenly with giant stride, 
In mystic garb and ghostly measure, 

Some dark prodigious Fate should glide ! 
Each earthly grandeur bends before 

The stranger from the world unknown — 
Wild Jubilee's insensate roar 

Is mute — and every mask falls down — 
While, by Truth's mighty victory banished, 
The works of Falsehood all have vanished. 

Thus to the voice of Song awaking, 

Man springs aloft in Spirit-flight, 
And, every hindrance vain forsaking, 

Steps onward, armed with holy might ; 
One with the Immortals hovering o'er him, 

He seems to spurn this earthly ball ; 
All other powers are hushed before him, 

And no dark destinies befall. 
Whilst firm the minstrel's charm abideth, 
Each fold of care its might derideth. 

And — after hours of hopeless yearning, 
And long exclusion's bitter smart, 

As now, with tears repentant burning, 
The child springs to its mother's heart — 

So to the bowers in youth beloved, 

The pure delights of childhood's train, 



246 

S5om fernen 5In3tanb frember ©ttten 
$Den gliic^tltng ber d3e[ang guriicf, 
Sit ber Sftatnr getrenen 2lrmen 
Son falten SFtegeln $n erttarmen* 



^itrbe ber gtraitett. 

Grfjret tie grauenl fte flecfyten nnb toeBen 
.£>immlifd)e £Ftofett ins ttbtfdje £eBen, 
gle^tett ber SteBe BegliitienbeS 23anb, 
U,nb in ber ©ra^te jii^ttgem ©cfyleier 
%lafy:zn fte mad)fam bag emtge geuer 
@cfyoner ©efit^le mit t)eiliger £anb. 

(£rcig cms ber 2Bat)rtjeit ©(^ranfen 
(5$treift beS Cannes roilbe ^raftj 
Unftat treiBen bie ®eban!en 
2Inf bem SD^eer ber Mbenfcfyaft; 
©ierig greift er in bie gerne, 
Shimmer nurb fein -iperg geftitft; 
Staftlo^ bnrdj entlegne (Sterne 
3agt er feineS SraumeS 23tlb. 

SIBer mit janBertfd) feffelnbem Slide 
SSinlen bie granen bem $litd)tling gurittfe, 
SBarnenb guriicf in ber ©egenroart <Spnr* 
3n ber Gutter Befdjeibener Jpittte 
<5inb fte geBlteBen mit fdjaml) after ©ttte, 
Sreue Softer ber frommen 5^atnr» 

geinbltdj ift beS Cannes ©treBen, 
Sfttt germalmenber ©ewalt 
©e^t ber ttilbe bnrcfy ba£ SeBen, 
£)§ne £Haft nnb 2tufent§alt, 



246 

From climes and customs far removed, 

Song brings the wanderer home again, 
In Nature's faithful arms to warm 
The Spirit chilled by lifeless Form. 

John Herman 3£erivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



THE DIGNITY OF WOMAN. 

Honor to women ! round Life they are wreathing 
Roses, the fragrance of Heaven sweet-breathing, 

Weaving and twining the garland of Love ; 
And, with the veil of the Graces concealing 
Charms like their own, at the altars of Feeling 

Watch the pure flame that was kindled above. 

Ever from the bounds of Truth 

Man rebellious turns aside, 
While the stormy gusts of Youth 

Drive him fierce on Passion's tide. 
Distant shadows, self-deceiving, 

Still he grasps in eager chase, 
And the dream of Fancy's weaving 

Follows through the starry space. 

But with the charm of their magical glances 
Women can win him still back from his trances, 

Bid him return to the Present again. 
They in the cottage retreat of their mother 
Bashful abide, each embracing the other, 

Nature's true Daughters — fair Piety's train. 

Hostile is man's eager strife. 

With his all-subduing might 
Goes he boldly forth through Life, 

Besting neither day nor night : 



247 

SBctg et f$uf, jerftort er nneber, 
Shimmer rufyt t>er SBimfdje ©trett, 
dimmer, »ie bag £aupt ber Jp^ber 
(Swig fattt mtb ftdj erneut 

5lBer, jufrieben mit flttlerem 9tu^me, 
23redjen bie ^rauen beg 2htgenf>litfg Slume, 
*fta^ren fie forgfam mit liefcenbem %Ui$, 
%xtkx in ifyrem geBunbenen SBtrfen, 
SReidjer, aU er, in beg SBiffeng tdqixftn 
Unb in ber £)idjtuna, unenblidjem ^reig,* 

**@treng unb ftolj, ftdj frffcjt geniigenb, 
$ennt beg Sftanneg fatte 23ruft, 
^ergtidj an ein £er$ ftdj fcfymiegenb, 
*Kid)t ber Siefce ©ottertuft, 
Rennet ni$t ben £auf$ ber ©eeten, 
9ttdjt in £f)ranen f^miljt er §tnj 



* S»n SD?ufenaImana$ »om Safir 1796 folgt fjter He (Strode; 

©etnes SBtOenS Jperrft^erftegel 
Sritcft ber 2flann auf bte 9ktur; 
Sn ber 2BeIt »erfarfd)tem ©piegel 
©iefit er fetnen ©fatten nur. 
Dffen Itegen t6m bte ©d)a£e 
2)er Skrnunft, ber $I?antafte; 
9lur bae 23ttb auf fetnem 9le|e, 
Slur bag 91 a § e fennt er nte. 

SI6er bte Silber, bte uttgerotf icanfett 
2>ort auf ber glut ber bemegten ©ebanfett 
Sn beS 2ftanneS Berbiifrertem 33IidE, 
$lar unb getreu in bem fanfteren 2Bei6e 
3etgt ftd) ber ©eefe frtjfiaUene ©djeibe, 
2Birft fte ber rufyige ©piegel juriicf. 

** $Tttfratt ber »ier erflen 3eilen biefer ©trop^e fle^en in ber etflen $u«a,a&e 
folgenbe: 

3mmer raiberftrefcenb, immer 
©djaffenb, fennt beg Cannes jperj 
2)e$ (Impfangen* SBonne nimmer, 
Siidjt Hn fiif get&eilten ©cfymerj. 



247 

"What he formed, again undoing, 
Never are his wishes dead — 
Never — as the Hydra's head, 

Failing stilly is still renewing. 

Woman, with glories more peaceful contented, 
Gathers the flowers by the moment presented, 

Carefully nursing, their life to prolong — 
Freer than Man in her bonds of alliance, 
Richer than he in the region of science, 

And in the infinite circle of song.* 

f Self-sufficing, proud and stern, 
Men's cold bosoms never know 

Hearts with hearts that mutual burn, 
Eapture's sympathetic glow. 

Theirs no sweet exchange of feeling, 
Nor the joy that tears dispense ; 



* Here, in the Musen-Almanach of 1796, follows the strophe: 

Of his will the seal commanding, 

Is by Man on Nature pressed ; 
By the world's false mirror standing 

Sees therein his shadow rest. 
Plain before his eyes are lying 

Treasures : mind and phantasy ; 
But the pictures 'round him flying, 

But the near he cannot see. 

We for the phantoms on thought's boundless ocean, 
Constantly flitting 'mid ceaseless commotion, 

Look in the Man's-gaze unsteady, obscure ; 
Clear though in Woman, who mildness revereth, 
Faithful the disk of the soul, aye, appeareth, 

Tranquilly mirrors the pictures so pure. 

f Instead of the first four lines of this strophe, we find the following 
in the first edition : 

Man, as worker and contender, 

Ne'er can feel within his heart 
Bliss that sweet impressions^ render, 

Nor the sympathetic smart. 



% It is not advisable, for obvious reasons, to give a strictly literal 
translation. It is also necessary, if we would free Schiller from all im- 
putations of obscurity and inelegance, to bear in mind that he omits 
in the revised editions of his works, ail that here appears as foot notes. 



248 

@eIB(l beg Sefceng $ampfe flatten 
garter feinen fatten ©inn, 

2tber, tote teife ttom 3 e P§9* erfdjiittert, 
©djnett bie aolifcfye £arfe ergtttert, 
SXIfo bie fiit)lenbe ©eele ber grew, 
.gartlid) geangfligt »om 23ilbe ber jQualett, 
SBaUet ber liebenbe SSufen, eg ftratytett 
sperlenb bie Sfagen son tytmmUfdjem £$au. 

3tt ber banner £errf$ge:6iete 
(Mr ber (Start? tro£ig fRed^t; 
3ft it bem ©djtoert bemeigt ber ©ctyttje, 
Uttb ber $erfer ttirb gum ^ne^U 
(£g Befefjben fldj im ©rtmnte 
5Dte 23egierben nulb unb ro§ 
Unb ber (Srig rau^e ©timme 
SBaltet, »o bie <£$arl* flotj. 

5lfcer mtt fanft itfterrebenber Sttte 
giif)ren bie grauen ben ©center ber (Strte, 
Soften bie gtoktxafyt, bie tofcenb enrgtu^t, 
£el)ren bie ^rafte, bie fetnblidj jt$ §ajfen, 
©id) in ber liebltdjen $orm $u umfaffen 
Unb seretnen, mag eroig fid) fltetjt * 



* Sftftd) btefer ©trop^e entljalt bie erfte STuSgaBe nod) folgenbet 

©einer 3Renfd)fid}fett tjergeffen, 
SBagt be«s 9ftanne$ eitler SBaljtt " 
Sftit Samcnen fid) ju meffen, 
£>enen bie Skgierben nafyn. 
©totj serfdjmaljr er bas ©eleite 
$?eife warneuber Sftatur, 
<5d)ix>ittgt fid) in be? JpimmelS SBeite 
Unb serliert ber Srbe ©pur. 

Slter auf treuerem $fab ber ©efii^Ie 
2BanbeIt bie grctu ju bem gotttidjen Sielt, 
2)a$ fte ftitt, bed} gewiffev erringt, 



248 

Whilst the war of Life is steeling 
Harder still their hardened sense. 

But, as when gently soft Zephyr is sighing, 
Wake into music the harp-strings replying, 

So woman's soul to the feelings is true. 
By the mere tale of distress moved to anguish, 
Heaves her sweet bosom — her eyes softly languish, 

Glistening like pearl-drops with heavenly dew. 

In the sphere of Man's command 

Force prevails. The conquering glaive 
Glitters in the Scythian's hand, 

And the Persian stoops, a slave. 
Wild desires impetuous raging 

Urge the fierce intestine strife, 
And hoarse Discord, battle-waging, 

Mars the grace, the life of life. 

But, with persuasive entreaty soft blending, 
Woman, the sceptre of Habit extending, 

Soothes the wild tumults that madden the soul ; 
And the blind forces by Hate made to sever 
Teaches to join in glad concord for ever, 

Winning the fugitive back to the goal.* 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



* The following additional stanzas succeed this strophe in the first 
edition: 

Man forgets, made bold by error, 
That he's but a mortal here ; 

Copes with demons, scorning terror, 
They to whom the passio?is near. 

Proudly he rejects the guiding- 
Hand of warning Nature kind ; 

Soars into the skies, abiding- 
There, till all is left behind. 

But on the pathway of feeling the surer 
Woman contends for the goal, that is purer, 
Gaining it safely, though still all the way ; 



249 
$offmmg. 

(5s reben unb traumen bie SDTenfdjen »tet 
S5on Befferen Htnfttgen Sagen; 

9lafy einem gTudlid)en, golbenen 3iel 
©te$t man jte rennen unb jagcn. 

S)ie SGelt nurb alt unb nurb nueber Jung, 

■Dodj ber SJZenfc^ tyofft immer ^erfcefierung, 

5Die Jpoffnung fitfjrt itytt tn3 Men etn, 
©te umflattert ben ftof)It$en ^naoen, 



©trebt auf ber ©dionoett geflugettetn SBagen 
3u ten ©ternen btc S0?enf46eit ju tragen, 
£>te ber 2ttann nur ertbbtenb begraingt. 

Stuf bes 2ftamte$ ©time tfironet 

£od), ate $cnigin bie gpfltc^t ; 

S)o(i) bie Jperrfd)enbe serfdjonet 

©raufam bag 23ef,errfd>te ntdjt. 

2)e$ ©ebanfenS ©teg enteljret 

£)er ©efiifjte SBtberflrett. 

Slur ber ero'ge £ampf getva^ret 

gfir beS (Sieged ©tptgfett. 

2T6er fur Gcroigfetten entfdjtebett 
Sfl in bem SBeibe ber 2etbenfd)aft ^nebett; 
S)er Sftotfjrcenbtgfeit fjeitige 9ttad)t 
-fcutet ber 3utf>ttgfeit fbfHidK 23tut6e, 
Jpiitet tm Sufen be$ 3BetbeS bie ©lite, 
£)ie ber SBitte nur treuIo$ bemadjt. 

STuS ber Unfcrjittb ©d)oo§ gerifen, 
■ftltmrnt jum gbeat ber 2ftann 
£urd) ein eroig jtrettenb SBiffett, 
2Bo fein ^perj nid)t niben fann, 
©djrcanft mit ungewiffem ©dmtte, 
3»ifd)en ©(itcf unb 3xed)t getheilt, 
Unb tterliert bie fdibne SSftitte, 
33o bie 2ftenfd>feett frcftfid) teeift, 
STber in Itnblid) unfdjutbiger Jpiille 
Sirgt ftd) ber I)or)e, getauterte ffiille 
£n beg 2Betbe3 serflarter ©eftatt- 
Slu? ber bejaubernben Sinfaft ber 3«8e 
£eud)tet ber 9Kenfd)fjeit 33oflenbung unb SBiege, 
Jpern'^et bes JUnbe», be? (Sngete ©eaatt. 



249 



HOPE. 

The Future is Man's immemorial hymn : 
In vain runs the Present a-wasting ; 

To a golden goal in the distance dim 
In life, in death, he is hasting. 

The world grows old, and young, and old, 

But the ancient story still bears to be told. 

Hope smiles on the Boy from the hour of his birth 
To the Youth it gives bliss without limit ; 



Strives with the Beautiful, on its bright pinion, 
Mankind to carry to planets' dominion, — 
Man though would conquer all — cost what it may. 

Man upon his brow is wearing 

Duty, Queen* in high command, 
Mighty ruler, no one sparing, 

Rules the ruled with iron hand. 
Victory of thought immureth 

Feelings' strife in infamy, 
Lasting strife alone assureth 

Victory's eternity. 

Passion in Woman, subdued for all ages, 
Peacefully rests, not in battle engages, 

Goodness her bosom doth evermore fill ; 
Nursed by necessity's holiest power 
Bloometh her modesty's glorious flower, — 

Faithless the watch is when kept by the will. 

Man to the Ideals is soaring, 

From the mother having flown; 
Battling knowledge, and exploring, 

Rest is to his heart unknown. 
Steps uncertain, thoughts confusing, 

Reels 'tween happiness and right ; 
Thus the happy medium losing, 

Where alone we find delight. 

But in the mantle of innocence hideth, 
Childlike, the Avill that in Woman abideth, 

Noble, refined, in the form angel-mild. 
Out of her features' simplicity lighten 
Perfectness, innocence, all the world brighten, 

Ruling with power of angel and child. 

Ed. 



* Duty (Die Pflicht) is feminine in German, which accounts for the 
metaphorical use of the word Queen. 



250 

£en 3mtgTtng Tocfet ifjr S^uBerf^etn, 

(Sie ttirb mit bem Carets nidjt begrafcen; 
£enn befcfrlic^t er tm ©rak ben mitben Sanf, 
9Rod) am ©ra£e pflan^t er — Me ipoffnnng auf. 

@3 ift leitt leerer, fd)metd)elnber 2Baf)n, 

(St^engt im ©efyirne beg S^oren, 
3m ^er^en fitnbet eg Icmt ftd) an : 

3u n?as 23ejferm fmb mir ge6oren; 
Unb mag bie innere (Stimme ftm$t, 
£>ag tanfcfyt bte ^offcnbe ©eete nid)t. 



5>ie beulfdje 'g&itfe. 

^ettt 5XugHftifc^ SHrer Utytt, 
,fteineg SDtebicaerg ©itte 

£a$elte ber beutfd)en $nnffc 
(Sie n>arb ntcfyt ge^flegt som Sfxut)me, 
©ie etttfaltete bte S3Iume 

Sfticfyt am (Strait ber giirftengnnjt. 

Son bem grofjten bentf&en ©of)ne, 
SSon beg grofen grtebridjg Stjrone 

©tng fte fdm^log, nngee^rt 
iftii^menb barfg ber 3>ntfd)e fagen, 
£6I)er barf bag iper^ ifym fcfylagen: 

@ e IB ft erfcfynf er fid? ben SBertJ* 

S^arnm ftetgt tn Jjcljerm 23ogen, 
SDctram jtrbmt in modern SBogen 

3>ntfd?er 33arben £o$gefang; 
Unb in etgner gitlle fd)tveUenb 
Unb au$ .perjeng Siefen qneKenb, 

(Spottet er ber Sfogeln 3^ an 3* 



250 

It gleams for Old Age as a star on earth, 

And the darkness of Death cannot dim it. 
Its rays will gild even fathomless gloom, 
When the Pilgrim of Life lies down in the tomb. 

Never deem it a Shibboleth phrase of the crowd, 
Never call it the dream of a rhymer ; 

The instinct of Nature proclaims it aloud — 
We are Destined for something sublimer. 

This truth, which the witness within reveals, 

The purest worshiper deepliest feels. 

James Clarence Mangan. 



THE GEKMAN MUSE. 

No Augustan .age hath flowered — 
No rich Medici have showered 

Fostering smiles on German art. 
She was not by glory nourished, 
Nor thro' princely favor flourished, 

Where the ripening Sun-beams dart. 

By Teutonia's noblest races — 

By the throne Great Frederick graces — 

She unmarked, unsheltered, strayed. 
This the German's brighter glory — 
Beating hearts proclaim the story — 

His high Fame Himself hath made. 

Thus to loftier arch extending, 
Thus in fuller tide descending. 

Pours the German minstrel's song ; 
And in Nature's fulness swelling, 
From the heart's deep fountain welling, 

Scorns the vulgar critic throng. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F. S. A. 



251 



3>er Sawann. 

(Stelje, ijotf ipoffnnno, sertranft bn ber (Srbe ben golbe* 

nen ©amen 
Unb ertr-arteft tm Sen^ fro^Itd) bie leimenbe (Saat, 
Sftur in bie gurcfye ber 3eit bebenfft bn bid? £l)aten gn 

ftrenen, 
SDie, son ber SBeigfjeit gejat, ftttl fitr bie (Smigfeit 



J)er $aitfmatw. 

SBofjtn fegelt bag @d)tff? ®g tragt ftbonifdje banner, 
£)ie i?on bent frierenben 5^orb fningen ben Sernftein, 

bag 3^nn. 
£rag' eg gnabtg, Sfteptun, nnb ttiegt eg fcfyonenb, t^r 

SMnbe, 
3n benurtfjenber 23u$t ranfcfy' tym tin trinffcarer 

£netf. 
(£it$, t$r ©otter, gel)6rt ber ^anfmanm ©liter %u 

fucfyen, 
©e^t er, bodj anfein @d)iff tmipfetbag @ntep$ an* 



$&t)ffeits. 

2ltle ©ewaffer bnrdjfreu^t, bie ipeimatfj gn ftnben, 

Db^ffeug; 
2)urdj ber ©c^Ha ©ebetl, bnr$ ber Sfjar^Bbe ©e* 
faf)r, 
£)nr$ bie ©cfyretfen beg feinbtt^en 9fteerg, bnr$ bie 

©cfyrecfen beg Sanbeg, 
(SelBer in 2ttbeg' 3M$ fii^rt tt)n bie irrenbe ga^rt 



251 



THE SOWER. 

See ! with a heart full of hope, to the earth golden 

seed thou entrustest, 
And with joy in the Spring, waitest to see it appear. 
Art thou mindful to strew in the furrows of Time 

worthy actions, 
Which for Eternity bloom, calmly by wisdom's hand 

sown ? 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE MERCHANT. 

Whither is sailing the Ship ? It bears the people of 

Sidon 
From the cold realms of the North, bringing the 

amber and tin. 
Bear it up gently, oh Neptune ! and peacefully rock 

it, ye zephyrs ! — 
Let it in sheltering bay find the refreshment it needs ! 
'Tis to you, ye Gods, that the Merchant belongs. 

Seeking riches, 
Goes he, — yet to his ship that which is good ever clings. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



ODYSSEUS. 



Seeking to find his home, Odysseus crosses each 

water ; 
Through Charybdis so dread ; ay, and through Scylla's 

wild yells, 
Through the alarms of the raging sea, the alarms of 

the land too, — 
E'en to the kingdom of Hell leads him his wandering 

course. 



252 

gnbttd) tragi bag ©efcfyicf tyn fdjtafenb an %fyaU$ 

tfujiej 
(Sr ermadjt unb erfennt jammernb bag SSaterlanb 
nicfet* 



^arffjago. 

Sluggearteteg $inb ber Beffern menfdjTtctyen Sautter, 
£)ad mtt beg SRomerg ©ettftlt paaret beg Sorters Sift! 

2lBer jener Bel)errfd)te mit $raft bie eroBerte Srbe, 
£>iefer Beleljrte bie 2Bett, bie er mit $lugf)ett Befta^T. 

<Spric^! \va$ rtymt bie ©efd)tc()te son bit? 2Bie ber 

Corner erwarBft bu 
SJMt bem (Sifen, tva$ bu tyrifdj mit ©olbe regierft 



pie gofjatuufer. 

£errltd) Heibet fie eu$, beg ^reugeg furdjtBare Sftujhtng, 
SBenn fyx, 2ott>en ber ©djlad&t, OTon unb SRfyobug 

Befd)ii£t, 
2)urd) bie fyrtfdje SBiifte ben Bangen pilgrim geleitet, 
Unb mit ber (£§eruMm ©cfytt>ert ftel)t ttor ttm fytili* 

gen (SraB, 
3T6er ein fc^onerer ©c^muct umgiBt eudj, bie (Scfyitrje 

beg SBarterg,* 
SBenn tfjr, Soften ber ©djladjt, ©iJfyne beg ebeljtet 

©tamrng; 
£)ient an beg ^ranlen 23ett, bem Sed^enben SaBung 

Bereitet, 
Unb bie niebrigef 3>fH<$t c^riftti^er Mbe wfr 

Bringt. 

* ©rjle£eg<uh 

Sl&er fdjiiner fleibet eudj fcoc^ bie ©c&urje beS 2Barfer$. 
■J- Sm SWufenoImantt^ »on 1796 jie^it ru&miofe 9>fH$t, 



252 

And at length, as he sleeps, to Ithaca's coast Fate 
conducts him ; 

There he awakes, and, with grief, knows not his father- 
land now. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



CAKTHAGE. 
O degenerate child of a kind compassionate mother, 
That to the might of Kome Oddest the cunning of Tyre ! 
But this ruled by her power the earth which her valor 

had conquered — [won. 

That instructed the world which by her prudence she 
Say, what doth History tell of thee ? She tells, thou 

didst ever [gold. 

"Win like the Roman by steel, rule like the Tyrian by 
John Herman Merivdle, Esq., F.8.A. 



THE KNIGHTS OF ST. JOHN.- 
Nobly, in truth, ye are clothed by the Cross's equip- 
ment so dreaded, [tect, — 
"When ye, the lions in fight, Accon and Khodus pro- 
"When through the Syrian deserts ye guide the sorrow- 
ing pilgrim, [viour's blest tomb. 
And, with the Cherubim's sword, stand o'er the Sa- 
But a glory still nobler surrounds ye, — the garb of the 
nurser,* — [nowned, 
"When ye, the lions in fight, sons of the race so re- 
Serve at the bed of the sick, refreshment prepare for 
the thirsty, — [enjoins. 
When ye perform the meant rites Christian-like mercy 

* Originally: 

Far more becoming to you is the glorious garb of the nurser. 

t In the Musen-Almanach of 1796 we rind tameless duly (ruhmlose 
Pflicht). 



253 

Religion beg StvtvttfS, nur bu »erfnu^ftefl in einem 
Grange ber £>emuty unb $raft boppeite $alme $u* 

glei$! 



5 euf fdje ^reue. 

Urn ben Scepter ®ermanieng ftritt mit Subftrig bent 

Sa^er 
gricbric^ aug ^aBgfturgg Stamm, Beibe gerufen turn 

Scroti j * 
3l6er ben 2lu(lrter fu$rr, ben 3ungttttg, bag neibifctye 

.ftrteggglucT 
3n bie geffeln beg geinbg, ber if)n tm ^antpfe Be* 

8»ittgt 
3ftit bem Ztjxont !auft er ftdj log, fein SBort mug er 

geBen, 
gitr ben (Sieger bag Sdjmert gegen bie greunbe gu 

3ie*)n; 
3T6er mag er in SSanben geloftt, !ann er frei nidjt er* 

fit lien; 
Siefje, ba fteUt er aufg neu ftnttig ben SBanben ft$ 

bar. 
STief geriifyrt umtyalst ifyn ber $einb, fie ioedjfetn oon 

nun an, 
2Bie ber greunb mit bem greunb, traulidj bie Seeder 

beg ma$U, 
2frm in 5lrm fdjlummern anf einem £ager bie giirften, 
2) a nod) blutiger £af grimmig bie Golfer ^erfleifdjt 
©egen griebridjg £eeer mug Subnrig gie^en* 3 U ^ 

SBacfiter 
S3a^erng lag t er ben f^einb, ben er beftreitet, juritcft 



^jenen febii^tc SuremburgS 9ftadjt, rmb bie 3JIe6rI»ett ber SSaljIer, 
SDiefenber Air^e ©eaalt unb b« ©ej"a;it$ie3 23erbienjil 



253 . 

Glorious Faith of the Cross ! thou only in one wreath 

unitest 
Those two nourishing palms, Meekness and Yalor at 

once ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



GEBMAN FAITH. 

On"Ce for the sceptre of Germany fought with Bava- 
rian Louis 

Fred'rick of Hapsburg descent, both being called to 
the throne.* 

But the envious fortune of war delivered the Austrian 

Into the hands of the foe, who overcame him in fight. 

With the throne he purchased his freedom, pledging 
his honor 

For the victor to draw 'gainst his own people his 
sword ; 

But what he vowed when in chains, when free he could 
not accomplish, 

So, of his own free accord, put on his fetters again. 

Deeply moved, his foe embraced him, — and from 
thenceforward 

As a friend with a friend, pledged they the cup at the 
feast ; 

Arm-in-arm, the princes on one couch slumbered to- 
gether, 

While a still bloodier hate severed the nations apart. 

'Gainst the army of Fred'rick, Louis now went, and 
behind him 

Left the foe he had fought, over Bavaria to watch. 



* Luxemburg's might and the most of the votersf protected the former, 
But then the latter the church, also the praise of mankind. 
f The majority of the Electors. 



254 

„28<rf>rrt$! @o ifftj <S* tjl »trfIt<$fo! ^att fjat 

mir'g gefdjrieben." 
3ftef ber ^cmttfer aug, aid er tie Stvutit senta^m* 



gofiunfiu*. 

(Steure, mutf)tger dsegler! (£g mag ber SBtjj bt$ tter* 

^o^nen, 
Unb ber differ am (gteu'r fenfen bte lafjtge £anb. 
3mmer, immer natf) 23ejU £ort mu§ bte ^iifte ftdj 

getgen, 
Siegt fee bod) bcutlid) unb liegt fdjimmemb 9or bei* 

nem 23erftanb. 
£raue bem leitenben ©ott unb folge bem fcfytoetgenben 

SBeltmeer! 
SBaY fte nodj ntdjt, (te i^S' J e ^ au ^ ^ en 8h*tf)en 

entpor* 
SKit bem ©entity jleBt bte 9?atur tm etotgen 23unbe; 
S3a» ber eine serfpricfyr, leiftet ber autre gewijj* 



^ompeji unb ^eratfenutm. 

2BeId)eg SBunber fcegt&t fu§? 2Sir fle^ten urn trtn!- 

Bare Cuetten, 
Srbe, bid) an, unb toad fenbet betn <5d)ocf ung 

Jjerauf! 
£eot eg im 2l6grunb au$? 2Bo§nt unter ber Zasa 

tterborgen 
ytofy ein neueg ©efcfytedjt? ^e^rt bag entflo^ne 

prutf? 
©rte^en, Sterner, o fommt! o fefct, bag alte ^pompejt 
gtnbet jtcfy nueber, aufg neu bauet fidj £erculeg' 
' Stabt 



254 

" Ay, it is true ! 'Tis really true ! I have it in writ- 
ing !" 

Thus did the Pontifex cry, when he first heard of the 
news. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



COLUMBUS. 
Steer on, bold Sailor — Wit may mock thy soul that 

sees the land, 
And hopeless at the helm may droop the weak and 

weary hand ; 
Yet eveh — ever to the West, for there the coast 

must lie, 
And dim it dawns and glimmering dawns before thy 

reason's eye ; 
Yea, trust the guidiug God— and go along the floating 

grave, 
Though hid till now — yet now, behold the New World 

o'er the wave ! 
With Genius Nature ever stands in solemn union still, 
And ever what the One foretells the Other shall fulfil. 
Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. ' 



POMPEII AND HEECULANEUM. 

What miracle is this ? We pray for springs to quench 

our thirst 
Of thee, O Earth ! what gifts are these thy silent womb 

has nursed ? 
Does life, yet stir in the abyss ? Beneath the Lava 

plain [again ? 

Dwells a new race concealed ? — returns the Past to life 
Greeks I Romans ! come — oh see ! Pompeii's ancient 

wall behold [unfold. 

Restored anew ! Herculean towers again their pride 



255 



©teM an ©teM fietgt, ber raumige ^orttcug offnet 

<Seine fatten, o etlt, ifyn ^u Mefcen, ^erbei! 
2tnfgetf)an if* bag ttette Sweater, eg ftiirge burdj fetne 

©iefcen Sftiinbnngen ftdj flntfyenb bte Sftenge herein* 
Sftimen, too Metfet if)r? £er»or! bag bereitete £)pfer 

sotlenbe 
Sltreug' @oT)tt, bem Dreft fo!ge ber graufenbe Sljor! 
SBo^in fit^ret ber 35ogen beg ©iegg? (Srfennt tf)r bag 

gorum? 
2Sag fitr ©eftalten fmb H^ attf bem curnlifdjen 

<5tuty* 
Sraget, Sictoren, bie 33eile ttoran ! £)en ©effel fcefietge 
3Ud)tenb ber $rator, ber 3^3' trctc, ber $iager 

»or ttyn* 
£RetnXtc^c ©aj]Tett fcreiten ftdj aug, mit erpfyetem $fla#er 
3ie^et ber fd)malere 2Beg neften ben £>aufern ffdj §un 
(g^itjjenb fprtngen bie 2)a^er §er»or, bie jterlidjen 

3tntmer 
dittyn urn ben einfamen Jpof tjetmlidj unb traultcfy 

fldj §er* 
Deffnet bie £aben gefdjaunb unb bie lange serfdjutte* 

ten S^itren! 
3n bie fdjaubrigte 9to$t fatfe ber luftige Slag! 
©ielje, tote ringg urn ben £Ranb bie netten 23anfe jt$ 

betjnen, 
SOSie son fcuntem ©efiein fdjimmernb bag Sjirtdj 

ffrifdj ko$ ergtan^t bie SBanb tton fetter Brennenben 

garfcem 
S3o tft ber ^iinftler? (£r toarf eBen ben 5>infel 

fjintoeg* 
Sd)toeIIettber griidjte soft TieBTidj georbneter 33Iumen 
gafjet ber muntre gefton reijenbe 23ilbungen ein* 



255 

Roof over roof ascends — the spacious Portico spreads 

wide [ing tide ! 

Its arch — Oh hither haste, to swell the people's rush- 
The Theatre its doors expands — its seven wide mouths 

invite [sight. 

The expectant crowd fast pouring in to view the gala 
Where are ye, Mimes ? — Come hither — haste ! Let 

Atreus' Son complete 
The sacrifice — the Furies' Chorus dog Orestes' feet. 
Yon arch of triumph — whither leads ?— the Forum, 

is it there ? 
What are those reverend forms that sit upon the 

curule chair ? [ascend 

Bear, Lictors, bear the axe before ! — the Praetor bid 
The Judgment-seat — the Witnesses — the Accuser 

near attend. 
The cleanly streets stretch far and wide — the narrow 

footpaths, flanked 
With silent dwellings, wind along, on causeways high 

embanked. [fair to see 

The roofs, for shelter formed and shade — the chambers 
That range along the lonely court in social privacy. 
Quick ! open wide the shutters — bid the long-closed 

gates give way, 
And on the night of ages pour the vivid flood of day ! 
See ! round the border ranged, trim benches spread 

their lengthened rows — 
How glittering bright with chequered stones the storied 

pavement glows ! 
The walls all freshly varnished shine with tints of bril- 
liant dye — [cil by. 
Where is the Artist ? 'Twas but now he laid his pen- 
The gay festoon, with swelling fruits and blushing 

flow 'rets dight, [sight. 

Encanopies fair forms of art, that charm the gazer's 



25b* 



SJttt Mabenem $or£ fd)fttpft $ter efn 2Tmor ijoruBcr, 
Smftge ©eniett bort feltern ben purpurnen SBein; 

£0$ auf fpringt bie 23acdjantin im Xan$, bort ru§et 

(tc f^lummernb, 
Unb ber laufdjenbe gaun $at ftdj nicfyt fatt rtodj 

gtitdjtig tummelt (tc $ier ben tafcfyen (Sentauren, auf 

einem 
$nie nur fdjfoeknb, unb treifct frifdj mit bem SHjipr* 

fu» tfjn an* 
$na!6en! ttas faumt i§r? £erki! ba ftefyn nodj bie 

fd)onen ©efcfytrre. 
grtfdj, i§r 9flabd)en, unb fdjopft in ben etrurift^en 

@te§t nidjt ber SDreifufj §ter auf fdjon geflitgelten 

©pf)inren? 
@(§itret ba3 genet! ©efdjnnnb, ©flaxen, fceftetfet 

ben iperb ! 
tfauft, §ter geB 1 id) eu$ SSftimgen, ttom mad)tigen £i* 

ht3 gepraget; 
2fudj nodj bie $3age liegt f)ier, fe§et, e$ fe^It fein 

<3tat>t$k 
(Stecfet bag Brennenbe Sidjt auf ben gtertidj geBtfbeten 

£eud)ter, 
Unb mtt gtan^enbem Del fiiffc bie £ampe ft$ an ! 
2Ba<3 serttaljret bteS .ftaftdjen? D fe§t, n>a3 ber 23rau* 

tigam fenbet, 
SSftabdjen! ©pangen son ©olb, glan^enbe $ajien 

gum ©d)mud 
giifjret bie S3raut in bag buftenbe S3ab, fyier fte^n nodj 

bie ©atben, 
©djminfe ftnb 1 tdj nodj fjter in bem gepfjlten $xy* 

ftaff. 



256 

With basket heavy-laden here a Cupid trips along ; 

There Genii tread the purple press in busy circling 
throng ; 

High bounds the Bacchant in the dance — or softly 
slumbering lies, 

While stands the laughing Faun to gaze with never- 
sated eyes ; 

Here, at full speed, on one knee poised, she the swift 
Centaur guides, 

And with her Thyrsus sharply goads his neck and 
panting sides. 

Come, boys ! the vessels all are ranged — why stand ye 
idly still ? 

Haste, maidens ! draw the water forth, your Tuscan 
urns to fill. 

Stands not the genial tripod here, on wings of sphinxes 
placed ? 

Quick — stir the fire — be quick, ye slaves ! prepare the 
hearth with haste. 

Go buy ! — I give you coins new struck, great Titus' 
stamp that bear : 

The scales are in their place — and not a weight found 
missing there. 

Now let the fair-wrought candlestick receive the burn- 
ing light — 

The lamp be filled with glimmering oil that blazes 
pure and bright. 

What may this casket hold ? Oh see ! gifts from the 
bridegroom sent — 

Thrice happy Maiden ! — clasps of gold, and studs for 
ornament. 

Into the fragrant bath conduct the Bride ! Here un- 
guents rare, 

Here curious pigments still we see in crystal vases 
fair. 



257 



SIBer t»o BleiBett bic Partner? bte OTeu? 3 m erujten 

9ftufeum 
£iegt nodj eitt foftlidjer <5§a% feltener Gotten ge* 

$auft. 

©rtffet ftttbet ifjr ^ter jum (S$reiBen, tr>adjferne£aferu; 

9Md)tS tft serloren, getreu $at e3 bie Srbe Bema^rt 

Shtd) bie $enaten, fte ftellett fid) eitt, eg ftttbett ft dj aHe 

©otter toieber; tr-arum Bleiben bie ^riefter ttttr auS? 

£)ett GabuceuS fdjwmtgt ber jierlid) gefdjeitfelte ipermeS, 

Uttb bie Victoria fliegt tetdjt au$ ber ^altenben £attb, 

£)ie SHtare, fie ftefyen ttodj ba, o fommet, o jitttbet, 

Sang fdjon entBef)rte ber ©ott, giittbet bie Dpfer 

if)m an! 



3mmer gerreiget bett ^rattj bes Corner uttb $a§let bte 

SSater 

£)e6 ttoffettbeten etr-igen SBerfs! 
£ate3 bod) eine Gutter ttur uttb bie 3^0 e ber Gutter, 

£etne unftsrbltc^en -3uge, 9?atur! 



§eu<? git #eratfe$. 

9Udjt au$ uteinem Sfteftar $a(i bu bie ©ottyett ge* 

trunfen; 
£)eitte ©otterfraft n>ar'$, bie bir beu Sfteftar errang* 



5>ie ^InMe an ben norbtfdjen ^anbcrcr. 

UeBer ©rrome l)ajt bu gefejjt uttb Sfteere burdjfdjtoom* 

men, 
UeBer ber 2Hpen ©eBirg trug bid) ber fdjioinblicfyte 

Steg, 

6$iGer$ fammtt. SBerfe. I. 17 



257 

But where the Men ? — the elders, where ? — In close 
Museum stored, [sacred hoard. 

More precious treasures still are piled — rare learning's 

Styles ready for the writer's use, and waxen tables by ; 

— There's nothing lost. Earth yet hath kept her trust 
right faithfully. 

The household guardians too are ranged — the Gods 
their forms display, [delay ? 

As in the olden time — but wherefore do the priests 

His Caduceus Hermes waves, high poised on instep 
light, 

And plumed Victory 'scapes the hand that would im- 
pede her flight. [the skies — 

The altars — still they stand. Oh come ! oh offer to 

The Gods have long unworshiped been — the kindled 
sacrifice I 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



THE ILIAD. 
Tear up the laurel of Homer, and number the fathers 

Of the completed, eternal work ! 
It has only one mother still, and the features of mother ; 
Nature ! they're thine eternal traits. 

JV. L. FrotMngliam. 



JOYE TO HEKOULES. 

'Twas not my nectar made thy strength divine, 
But 'twas thy strength which made my nectar thine ! 
Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. 



THE ANTIQUE TO THE NORTHERN 

WANDERER. 

Over rivers hast thou passed — thou hast sailed o'er 

Ocean's bed, [hath led, 

And over Alpine heights the dizzy path thy steps 



258 

9JM<$ itt ber Vttyt ju fdjann unb metne <3$one $u 

^reifen, 
Die ber fcegetfterte Sfatf rit^mt bnrd) bie (taunenbe 

SBelt; 
Unb nun jtetjji bu ttor mtr, bu barfft mid) ^eiPge Be* 

riifyren, 
2T6er Mjt bu mir je^t na>r, unb Mn id) eg bir?* 



5ie ganger 6er ^onDeff. 

<Sagt, too (tub bte Sortreffltdjen fjtn, fro ftnb* t$ bie 

(Sanger, 
Die mit bem leBenben SBort Jjordjenbe Softer erttjucft, 
Die »om £immel ben ©ott, gum £immel ben Sften* 

fdjen gefungen 
Unb gerragen ben ©eift $ofy auf ben gtitgeln beg 

Siebg? 
5ldj, nod) leoen bie ©anger; nnr fe^len bie £§aten, 

bie Sipra 
§reubig ju toecfen, eg fef)tt, ac^! tin empfangen* 

beg £>Ijr* 
©litdflidje Dieter ber giu<!H<$en SBelt! 23on Sttunbe 

gn 9#unbe 
gtog, bon ©efdjledjt ju ©efd)led)t ener empfunbe* 

m^ SBerr* 

* Sn ben Jporen son 1795 folgen ^terauf nodj btefe SSerfe: 

Winter Mr liegt jwar-bein nebtidjter 5>ot unb bent eiferner Jpimmel, 

Seine arfturtfdje 5tad)t fliefjt sor SlufcnienS Stag; 
Slber r>ajt bu bie SHpemuanb be$ 3afyr6unberr$ gefpaften, 

35ie jwifdjen bir unb mir ftrtfter unb traurig ftd) tbiirmt? 
J^aft bu »on beinem Jperjen gercatjt bie 2Dclfe be$ 3ttbtU, 

Die »on bem aunbernten Slug it>al$te ber froMidie ©tra|t? 
(Jwig umfonfi umftrablt bid) in mir 3onien3 ©onne, 

Den perbiifterten Sinn bmbet ber norbifdje g(u$. 



258 

That thou may'st view me near, and my beauties 

rightly prize — 
Those beauties which admiring Fame has lifted to the 

skies. 
And now thou stand'st before me, and my sacred form 

dost see — 
Yet art thou nearer to me now — or nearer I to thee ? * 
John Herman Merivale, Esq., F. S.A. 



THE BAEDS OF OLDEK TIME. 

Say, where is now that glorious race, — where now 
are the singers 

Who, with the accents of life, listening nations en- 
thralled, 

Sung down from heaven the gods, and sung mankind 
up to heaven, 

And who the spirit bore up high on the pinions of song ? 

Ah I the singers still live ; the actions only are want- 
ing, 

And to awake the glad harp, only a welcoming ear. 

Happy bards of a happy world ! Your life-teeming 
accents 

Flew round from mouth unto mouth, gladdening every 
race. 



* Here follow yet, in the Horen of 1795, these verses : 
Behind thee thou hast left thy cloudy pole, and iron sky — 
Before Ausonia's radiant beam thy northern night blasts fly. 
But hast thou cleft those Alpine walls that centuries divide, 
That rise betwixt my form and thee in dark and mournful pride? 
Say, hast thou from thy heart's core rolled the volumed clouds away, 
That from thy wonder-stricken sight obscured the face of day ? 
Ever in vain Ionia's sun, in me, around thee shines — 
The northern malediction still thy darkened sense confine's. 



259 



23ie man bie ©otter empfangr, fo.ocgritfjte jeber mit 

2lnbac6t, 
2Bag ber ©ening tfim, rebenb uttb bilcenb, erfdjuf* 
2ln ber ©Iut§ ce^ ©efangg entfiammten beg £>orerg 

©efitljte, 
2ln be^ iporerg ©cfii^f naljrte ber ©anger bie©utf§ — 
yityt? unb reinigte fie! £er ©litcflidje, bent in beg 

2So(feg 
(Stimme rtoc^ Jell" ^unid rente bie (Seele beg Siebg, 
£)em nod) eon anfen erfd)ien, im Seoen, bie t)imm* 

lif<$e ®ottr)eit, 
£)ie ber Sftenere faum, fanm no$ im ipergen ser* 

ntmmt.* . 



pie ^(nfifien 511 ^aris. 

S3ag ber ©rted)en $unfi erfdiaffen, 
SJcag ber granle mit ben 23affert 

gii^ren nad) ber (Seine ©tranb, 
Unb in prangenben 9Jcufeen 
3eig' er feine <Sieggtropfyaen' 

£)em erjlaunten SSarerlanbl 

(Stoig toerben fte tljm fd)toetgen, 
5Ttte eon ben ©efteften fteigen 

3n beg £e£eng frif($ett ^eitjn- 
£>er allein Beftfct bie SJhtfen, 
£er fte tragi im roarmen 23nfen, 

SDem 3Sanbalen ftnb fte ©rein. 



* 2He erfte 5lu$gabe in ben £oren son 1795 ent^alt Ijier nodj fstgenbe 
©telle: 

SBelj 1 if?nt, toenn er con aufeit e» je|t nodj gtaubte ju tierne^ntea 

Unfc ein betrogenec Dbr leibt bent oerfiibrenben SRuf ! 
Stu3 ber 2Bett urn ibn I)er fpracfj ju bent Sltten bie SDtufe; 

£aum ncd? erfc&eint fte bem Steu'n, mnn er bie feine— sergt|st. 



259 

"With the devotion with which the Gods were received, 

each one welcomed 
That which the genius for him, plastic and breathing, 

then formed. [senses, 

With the glow of the song were inflamed the listener's 
And with the listener's sense, nourished the singer 

the glow — [in the voices 

Nourished and cleansed it, — fortunate one I for whom 
Of the people still clear echoed the soul of the song, 
And to whom from without appeared, in life, the great 

Godhead, [breast.* 

Whom the bard of these days scarcely can feel in his 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE ANTIQUES AT PAEIS. 
What the Grecian art created, 
Let the Frank, with pride elated, 

Bear to Seine's exulting strand ; 
And in galleries rich and glorious 
Show his trophied spoils victorious 

To his gazing Fatherland. 

To that tasteless brood they speak not — 
From their pedestals they wake not, 

There to make their glories known. 
Him alone their presence blesses 
Who with bosom-warmth caresses ; 

— To the Vandals they are Stone. 

John Herman MeHvale, Esq., F. S.A. 



* The first edition of the Horen of 1795, contains the following addi- 
tional lines : 
Woe to hiin, if from without he expects still to herald its coming, 

And to the voice so seductive his ear, although cheated, doth lend. 
Out of the world, all around him, the Muse with the Ancient held 
converse ; 

Yet to the Modern it scarcely appears, when his own he— forgets. 



260 
Ifjefcfa. 

Sine ©eijterfltmme. 

SBo id) fet, nnb tt)0 mid) r)ingett>enbet, 
2113 Tttein fliicfyfger (Smarten bir entfdjtoeBt? 
JpaB 1 id) itidjt BefcBleffen unb geenbet, 
£aB' idj nidjt gelteBet unb geleBt? 

SBiffjl bu nadj ben 9?ad)ttgatfen fragen, 
£)ie mit feelenooEer SJWobte 
!Didj entpden in be£ £enje3 £agen? 
9£ur, fo lang fte IteBten, toaren fte* 

D6 idj ben 23erlorenen gefunben? 

©lau&e mir, id) Bin mit \§m oereint, 

SSo [1$ nid)t met)r trennr, toaS ftd) oerBunben, 

JDort, too feine Xfjrane toirb getoeint* 

2)orten totrffc audj bu im3 ioieber fmben, 
SBenn beitt SieBen unferm Sieben gleidjt; 
£>ort ift audj ber sBater fret oon ©itnbert, 
£)en ber Blufge 9ft orb nidjt metjr erreidjt 

Unb er fitf)lt, bag ifjn fein 28al)rt Betrogen, 
51(5 er auftoart^ 3U ben ©ternen fa$$ 
£>enn, wie jeber toagt, toirb i§m getoogen; 
2£er es glauBt, bem iji ba3 £etPge na§* 

SBort geljalten toirb in jetten 9taumett 
3ebem fdjonen, glauBtgen ©efitfjl; 
SGage bu ju irren unb ^u traumen, 
£ofyer <Sinn liegt oft in fmVfdjem <BpitL 



Jpas 'gftabdjett boh ©rfeart*. 

£)a3 eble 33ilb ber 9ften[d)£)eit ju oerijoljnen, 
3m ttefften ^tauBe toaljte bid) ber ©pottj 



260 
THEKLA.* 

A SPIRIT VOICE. 

" Where I am, and Whitherward I fleeted, 
When my spirit was from Earth removed ? » 

Wherefore ask me ? Is not all completed ? 
I have lived, lived long, for I have loved ! 

Tell me where the nightingale reposes 

Which with soulful music fugitive 
Charmed thy dolour in the Days of Roses ! 

When she ceased to love she ceased to live. 

" Have I found anew the dear Departed ? " 
Oh, believe me, I am blent with him, 

There, where Peace unites the Eaithfulhearted, 
Where no sorrow makes the bright eye dim. 

There thou too, if meek in mind and lowly, 
Mayest behold us when thy night is o'er, 

There embrace our father, healed and holy, 
Whom the bloody steel can reach no more. 

There he sees how truthful were the feelings 
Born of gazing on yon starry sphere : 

Blest are they who cherish such revealings ! 
Unto them the Holy One is near. 

Far above the sapphire spaces yonder 
Souls achieve what Men in vain essay — 

Therefore venture thou to dream and wander — 
Mysteries often lurk in childish play. 

James Clarence Mangan. 



THE MAID OF ORLEANS. 

Man's nobleness in thee, while thou appearest, 
Is made the sport of vulgar mockery ; 



See note n. 



261 

$rteg ftitjrt ber 23ij3 auf emtg mit bem (Sdiouen, 
(£r glaubt ntt^t an ben (Sngel unb ben ®ottj 
2)em iper^en null er feitte ©c^a^e rauben, 
£)en SBa^n befriegt er unb oerle^t ben ©laubem 

2)odj, hne bu fetbjr, aug Hnblicfyem ©ef$te$te, 
©elbft eitte fromme ©djafertn, ttie bu, 
3teid)t bir bie SMcfyrfintft i^re ©otterredjte, 
@$nungt ftd) mit bir ben em'gen ©teruen $u* 
yjlit etner ®lorte fyat fte bid) umgeben; 
2)i(^ f$uf bag £er$, bu nurft unfterblid) tebem 

(Eg liebt bte SBelt, bag ©tratjlenbe ju fd^ftdqen, 
Unb bag (Srijabne in ben @taub $u giel)n; 
£>odj fitrdjte nidjt! (£g gibt nod) fcfyonre ^erjen, 
£)ie fur bag £ol)e, £errltd)e entgtiityru 
2)en Tauten 9ftarft mag 9ftomug untertjaltenj 
©in ebler ©inn liebt eblere ©eftalten. 



'glettie. 

5luc^ bag (3$ one mug fterben! £)ag SSftenfdjen ttnb 

©otter Begwingct, 
9ttdjt bte efjerne 35rufl rtitjrt eg beg jtygifdjen 3tu$. 
Sinmal nur ermeidjte bie Siebe ben ©djattenbeljerrfdjer, 
Unb an ber ©djmetle nod), ftreng, rief er auritd fein 

®ef#ent 
9lidjt ftillt 2Iptjrobite bem fdjonen Rnabtn bte SBunbe, 
£)te in ben jierlidjen %tih graufam ber (£ber gerijjt 
9tidjt errettet ben gottlidjen £e(b bie unfterblid)e Gutter, 
$Qtnn er, am ffaifdjen £t)or fattens, fein ®d)idfal 

erfMt 
$ber fte fteigt au^ bem SD^eer mit alien £od)tern beg 

Sftereug, 



261 

For Wit makes war with all on earth that's fairest ; 

No faith in angels, nor in God hath he ; 
He robs the heart of all its heavenly treasures, 
He sneers at dreams, and envies Faith's pure pleasures. 

But unto thee — from lowly race descended, 
Herself a pious shepherdess, as thou — 

Hath Poesy her heavenly rights extended, 
And shed a lasting glory round thy brow. 

She wings thee up to Heaven's own starry portal ; 

The heart made thee — therefore thou art immortal. 

The world delights to blacken o'er true merit, 

And the exalted in the dust lay low ; 
But fear not thou ! There 's many a gentle spirit, 

Which for the High and Beautiful can glow. 
Let Momus entertain the rabble's leisure : 
A nobler taste in nobler forms seeks pleasure . 

John 8. Dwight. 



N^NIA.* 



The Beautiful, that men and gods alike subdues, 
must perish, 

For pity ne'er the iron breast of Stygian Jove shall 
cherish ! 

Once only — Love, by aid of song, the Shadow-Sov- 
ereign thralled, 

And at the dreary threshold he again the boon recalled. 

Not Aphrodite's heavenly tears to love and life re- 
stored 

Her own adored Adonis, by the grisly monster gored ! 

Not all the art of Thetis saved her god-like hero-son, 

When falling by the Scsean gate, his race of glory run ! 

But forth she came, with all the nymphs of Nereus, 
from the deep, 

* See note o. 
40 



262 



Unb Me $Ia$e fytbt an urn ben oer^errttdjten (Sofjn* 
©ietye, ba fteinen bte ©otter, eg ttehten bie ©otttnnen 

atte, 
£)a£j bag (Sdjime oergetjt, bafi bag ^oHfommene fHr&r, 
2utd) ein ^laglieb ju feitt im 9ttunb ber ©elteoten, i(l 

lijerrlidj, 
£)enn ba$ ©entente getjt flanglog sum Drfug ^inaT6* 



J)er fpiefeube ^ttaBe. 

©ptete, ^inb, in ber Gutter <Sdjoo£! 5luf fcer ^etligen 

3nfet 

^tnbet ber trttoe ©ram, ftnbet bte ©urge bid) nidjt 
£ieoettb fatten bte 5lrme ber Gutter bid) ttoer bem W>* 

grunb, 
Uttb in U$ flutfjenbe ©rao lad>etjt bu fdjutbrog 

tjinao* 

©piele, IteBlidje Unfdjutb! 9todj tft 2Irfabien urn bid), 

Uttb bie freie 9latur folgt ttur bem froljlidjen Sriefc; 

Sftod) erfdjafft fify bie uppia,e$rafterbtd)tete<5djrattfett, 

Uttb bem ttifltgen $Rufy feljtt nod) bie spfltdjt uttb 

ber B^ed 
©jnele! 23alb toirb bie Slroeit fommen, bie §agre, bte 

erttfte, 
Unb ber geoietenben $flidjt mangeltt bie Sujt unb ber 

2^ut^ 



©ley ttt bem fatten ^ittb ^toei IteMtdje 93fumen tter* 

eittigt, 
3ungfrau ttttb Singling, fte bedt Mbe bie $nofpe 

nod) 3tu 



262 

Around the silence of the Dead to sorrow and to weep. 
See tears are shed by every god and goddess, to survey 
How soon the Beautiful is past, the Perfect dies away ! 
Yet noble sounds the voice of wail — and woe the Dead 
can grace ; [Base ! 

For never wail and woe are heard to mourn above the 
Sir Edward Bulwer Jjytton. 



THE PLATING BOY.* 

Sport, Infant, on thy Mother's breast — that sacred 
isle of rest — 

"Where troublous grief and carking care thy peace can 
ne'er molest. [abyss below, 

Her arm supports thee safe where yawns the dread 

And, smiling in thy guiltless joy, thou mark'st the 
billows flow. [around, 

Sport, lovely innocence ! — while yet Arcadia blooms 

And Nature owns for thee no law but thy heart's un- 
fettered bound ; 

While thy strength in wanton pride may still its own 
restraints invent, 

And thy willing spirit knows not yet grave duty's 
sterner bent. 

Sport while thou may'st — for all too soon will come 
hard Labor's day, 

And Joy and Pleasure tail to welcome Duty's sover- 
eign sway. L. 



THE SEXES. 
See in the tender child two beauteous flow'rets united ! 
Maiden and youth are both now hid in the bud from 
the eye. 

* See note j). 



263 

Seife U$t ftc§ baa 23anb, ea ent^weien fldj $art Me *Ka* 

htren, 
Unb ijon ber ^olben (Sc^am trennet fldj feurig bie 

tfraft 
©onne bent Stnafon $u fpielen, in foitber SBegierbe $u 

token; 

9htr bie gefattigte jtraft ferret $ur 2fnmutf) ^urud* 

2hta ber Jvnofpe Beginnt bie boppelte 53Iume ju ftrebett, 

$oji(idj ift jebe, bo$ jltttt feme bein fe^nenbea £er$* 

Sftetjenbe guile fdjtoeHt ber^ungfrau olit^enbe ©tteber, 

$&er ber (&tofy oercadjt ftreng, rate ber ©ttrtel, ben 

9tei$* 
@$eu, fete ba^ jitternbe 9te§, baa tyx ^orn burdj bie 

28alber serfolget, 
§Iie$t fie im 9flann nur ben geinb, $affet nodj, well 

fte ntdjt lieBt 
£ro£tg fd^auet unb fitfjn aua fmftern SBimpettt ber 

Sitngftng, 
Unb, geprtet jum Stamps fpannet bie Se^ne fldj an* 
^ern in ber (Speere ©enmf)l unb auf bie ftaufcenbe 

0tennoaljn 
Sftitfit itm ber lotfenbe SRvifym, retfjt i^n ber fcraufenbe 

3e£t Befc^u^e bein SBerf, «Ratur! Sluaeinanber auf 

immer 
glte^et, menn bu ntdjt fcerehtfr, fetnbltcfy, toa$ etirig 

fi# fu«t 
Sifter ia 6tji bu, bu 9fla$ttge fdjon, ana bent ttritbeften 

©treite 
SRuffl bn ber iparmome gottlidjen gricben fjersor* 
S'ief oerftummet bie larntenbe 3<*gb, bea raufdjenben 

£agea 
£ofen MifyaUtt, unb leia (mien bie (Sterne $era&» 



263 

Gently loosens the band, the natures with softness are 

parted, 
And from the modest-faced shame, severs the fiery 

might. 
Suffer the boy to play, with raging passions to bluster ! 
Sated vigor alone turns into beauty again. 
From the bud begins the twofold flow 'ret to issue, — 
Both are precious, but yet, neither thy yearning heart 

calms. 
Eavishing fulness swells the blooming limbs of the 

maiden, 
But, like her girdle, her pride watches with care o'er 

her charms. 
Shy as the trembling roe, whom the hunter pursues 

through the forest, 
Flies she from man as a foe, — hates him, because she 

loves not. 
Boldly and proudly looks the youth from beneath his 

dark eyebrow, 
And, girded up for the fight, strains to the utmost his 

nerves. 
Far, in the turmoil of spears, and on to the race-course 

so dusty, 
Hurries him fame's craving thirst, bears him his bois- 
terous mind. 
Now, great Nature, protect thy work ! What seeks 

itself ever, 
Flies, if thou rivet it not, ever in anger apart. 
Mighty one ! thou already art there ; from the wildest 

of conflicts 
Thou dost call forth into life harmony's concord divine. 
Sudden is hushed the sound of the chase ; the day's 

busy echo 
Dies on the ear, and the stars gently sink down to 

their rest. 



264 

(Senfgenb ftitftert bag 3fo^r, fanft mnrmetnb gtetten 

bte SBadje, • 
Unb mtt ntetobtfdjem Steb fiittt spfyifomela ben £auu 
2Bag erreget ju ©enftern ber 3ungfrau fteigenben 

23nfen? 
Sungltng, ft>ag fiittct ben 55Iid fd)mellenb mtt £$ra* 

nett bir an? 
21$, fie fndjet ntnfonjt, ttag fie fanft anfdjmtegenb 

nmfaffe, 
Unb bte fdjwetfenbe grndjt benget jur (£rbe bte £afh 
0tu$eIoS ftre&enb tter^rt ftcfy in eigenen glammen ber 

Singling, 
$$, ber fcrennenben ©Inttj n>e$et fetn linbewber 

£an$* 
©te§e, ba fmben fie (1$, eg fittjret fte 2Imor gnfammen, 
Unb bem geflitgelten ©ott folgt ber geflitgelre @teg* 
©ottltdje Siebe, bu MjTg, bte ber Sftenfcfyljett 23Inmen 

Deretntgt! 
(Swig getrennt, fmb fte bodj emtg ijerbunben burdj 

btd^ 



'gftadjf bes Reifies. 

2D?a$ttg fetb ijjr, t§r feib'g bnrdj ber ©egenftart rutyt* 

gen Banber; 
$8a$ bie fttHe ntdjt nurft, totrfet bie ranfd)enbe nie* 
tfraft ewart' idj com Sflann, beg ©efe^ed SBitrbe 

fcefjanpt' er; 
SIBer bnrdj 9lnmntfj afletn tyerrfdjet nnb fjerrfdjebag 

mtxK 

yflanfyt itoax |aBen geljerrfdjt bnrd) beg ©etjteg 9fta$t 

nnb bie SHjaten; 
5H>er bann fjaben fte bid), $o<$fte ber kronen, ent&etjrt 



264 

Sighing whispers the reed, — soft-murmuring glides on 

the streamlet, 
And her melodious song Philomel trills through the 

grove. 
"What is it forces a sigh from the heaving breast of 

the maiden ? [eye ? 

Youth, what is it that bids tears to mount up to thine 
Ah ! she seeks in vain for a something ail-gently to 

cling to, [weight. 

And the over-ripe fruit bends to the ground with its 
Eestlessly-striving, the youth in his self-lighted name 

is consuming ; 
Ah ! o'er that fierce-burning glow breathes not a soft- 
ening wind. 
See, at length they meet, — 'tis Cupid has brought them 

together, 
And to the deity winged, victory winged soon succeeds. 
Love divine, 'tis thou that joinest mortality's flowers ! 
Parted for ever, by thee are they for evermore linked I 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE POWEK OF WOMAN. 

Mighty art thou, because of the peaceful charms of 
thy presence ; 

That which the silent does not, never the boastful 
can do, 

Yigor in man I expect, the law in its honors main- 
taining, 

But, through the graces alone, woman e'er rules or 
should rule. 

Many, indeed, have ruled through the might of the 
spirit and action, 

But then, thou noblest of crowns, they were deficient 
in thee. 



265 



fBafyxz $omgin if* nnr be£ SBelfceS weiMi^e (S^on^ett: 
2Co fie ftd) seige, fie §errf$r, I)errf#et Hog, tpeit fie 

ft* mt. 



per lanj. 

(Sieije, tote fdjir-eoenben ©djritts im SBettenfdjmung ft$ 

bie $aare 
£>retjen? £)en 23oben Beru^rt laum ber gefliigelte 

(Sefj 1 idj ftudjtige ©fatten, Befreit son ber (Severe 

be3 ^etBe^ ? 
(5$Ungen im Sftonbli^t bort Slfen ben InfHgen 

$ei$n? 
SBie, »om 3ty$9* getoiegt, ber leic^te ^Rauc^ in bie 

Suft fTiegt, 
2Bie ftdj leife ber Stafyn fdjaufelt ouf ftf fcertter fttufy, 
£ityft ber gelefjrtge §ujj auf be$ Salts melobifdjer 

2Boge; 
<5anfetnbe<3 (Saitengeton ^efit ben dt^erif^en SeiK 
3e£o, ate wottt' e$ mtt SJZac^t bur$rei§en bie Sltttz 

be6 SangeS, 
(gdjtinngt ftdj ein ntntfnges $aar bort in ben bid)* 

teften S^ei^n* 
@$ncU oor ifjm $er entftel)t if)tn bie 33a$n, bie Winter 

il)m fd)mmbet, 
$3ie bnrdj magtfdje ipanb offnet unb fdjtiejt ftdj ber 

£3eg. 
(Sie§! jejjt f^ioanb e3 tern 33Ittf; in nulbem ©efoirr 

burckinanber 
©tiirjt ber jierlidje 33an btefer Beroegltc^en 2Mt 
9ton, bort fdjwe&t e» fro^locfenb fjerauf, ber ^noten 

entwirrt ftdj; 



265 

No real queen exists but the womanly beauty of 
woman ; 

"Where it appears, it must rule ; ruling because it ap- 
pears ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE DANCE.* • 

See how they float, the glad couples along, in billowy 
motion 

Gliding — and scarcely the ground touch with their 
feathery feet ! 

Do I behold flitting shadows, escaped from the weight 
of the body? 

Or are they moonlight elves, threading their aery 
maze ? 

As, by the west wind cradled, the light smoke curls 
into ^Ether, 

Gently as tosses the bark, rocked by the silvery flood, 

Moves the obedient foot, on the tide of Melody bound- 
ing ; 

Poised on the warbling string, floats the etherial frame. 

Now — as the links of the dance were forcibly broken 
asunder, 

Darts through the closest ranks, madly, some swift 
whirling pair ; 

Instant, a passage before them is made, then behind 
them has vanisiied — 

Seems as by magical spell opens and closes the path. 

See ! now it fades from their sight — in wild confusion 
around them, [away ! 

Falling in pieces, the world's beautiful frame dies 

No ! there exultmgly soar they aloft — the knots dis- 
entangle ; 

* See note q. 



266 



9ta mtt tier a nter tern SRetg ftetCet bic Sftegel fldj 5 er * 
Stt>ig jerftort, e3 ergeugt ft$ etoig tie bret)enbe <5$op* 

fang, 
Unb ein fUHeS ®efe£ lenft bet 2$ertoanbTung <&pitL 
<&pxifi), trie gef^iefjt'S, bag rajtloS erneut bie Stfbungen 

fc^toanfen, 
Unb bie 3^u^e befteljt in ber fcemegten ©eftatt? 
3eber ein Jperrfdjer, frei, nur bem eigenen ^eqen ge* 

f)ord)et 
Unb im eilenben 2auf fhtbet bie eirtgtge 23afjn? 
SBillft bu e$ toiffen? &$ ift beg S^HautS madjttge 

©ottf)eit, 
SMejum gefelligen Zan^ orbnetben tobenben (Sprung, 
£)ie, ber 9?emeft3 gleid), an beg ^H^tljmuS golbenem 

£enft bie braufenbe Suft unb bie oenoilberte ja^mt. 
Unb bir raufcfyen umfonft bie £armonieen bes 2Beltat(3 ? 
SDidj ergreift nid)t ber (Strom biefeS erfyabnen ©e* 

fangs? 
9ltdjt ber begeifternbe Xatt, ben aEe SBefen bir fdjtagen? 
Sftidjt ber toirbelnbe Sang, ber burd) ben eioigen 

Sftaum 
£eudjtenbe (Sonnen fdjnungt in ttyn getounbenen 

33at)nen? 
£)a$ bu im (Spiele boc^ efjrft, flie^ft bu im £anbetn, 



pas §fM. 



(SeTig, ttelcfjen bie ©otter, bie gnabigen, Dorter ©eburt 

fdjon 
Stebten, toetdjen aU $inb 33enu3 im 2trme getoiegt, 
SSeldjem $§obu0 bie 2lugen, bie £ippen JpenneS gelojet, 



266 

Only with varied charm, Order recovers its sway. 

Ever destroyed — yet ever renewed, is the circling crea- 
tion — 

Ever a fixed silent law guides the caprices of change. 

Say, how befalls it that figures renewed are yet cease- 
lessly shifting, 

How, that rest yet abides ev'n in the form that is 
moved ? [obedient ; 

Each man self-governed, free, to his own heart only 

Yet in Time's eddying course finding his one only road? 

Wouldst thou the reason attain ? — it is Harmony's 
powerful Godhead, 

Which to the social dance limits the maddening bound ; 

Nemesis-like, with the golden bridle of rhythmical 
measure, 

Curbs the unruly desire, chains the wild appetite down. 

And do they sweep o'er thy senses in vain — those 
heavenly hymnings ? 

Doth it not raise thee — the full swell of this mystical 
song ? [around thee ? 

Nor the ecstatic note that all beings are striking 

Nor the swift whirling dance, which through unlim- 
ited space [cles ? 

Whirls swift revolving suns in bold concentrical cir- 

— That which in sport thou reverest — Measure — in 
truth thou dost spurn. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F. 8. A. 



FORTUNE. 
Blest is the man whom the merciful gods, ere he 

came into being, 
Cherished, and whom, as a child, Venus then rocked 

in her arms ; 
And whose eyes by Phoebus, whose lips by Hermes 

were opened, 



267 



Unb bag (gtegel ber yjlafyt 3eug auf bte ©ttrtte ge* 

briitft! 
Sin ertjabeneg Soog, ciit gotttidjcg, ift iljm gefatfeit, 
(Sd)on oor be^ $ampfe$ 23egintt firtb ifym bie ©djfafe 

befringe, 
3§m ifl, e^ er eg lebte, bag »otfe Seben gerec^net, 

GEfj' er bie 9ftii§e beftanb, $at er bie Claris ertangt 
©rog jtoar nenn' id) ben Sftarnt, ber, fetn eigner 53ilb* 

ner nnb (Stopfer, 
£)nrdj ber £ngenb ©etoatt felber bie 9)arje be^nringt; 
2lber nidjt er^ingt er bag ©tittf, nnb wag i$m bie 

Claris 
9teibif$ gemeigert, errtngt nitnmer ber fterbenbe 

2Sor Unitmrbtgem lann bid) ber SBiffe, ber ernjte, Be* 

warren, 
2lHeg £>6$fte, eg fommt frei »on ben ©ottern ^erab, 
2Bie bie ©eliebte bi$ Itebt, fo lommen bie tyimmtifdjen 

©aben; 
Dkn tit 3«piterg 9ieid) Jjerrfd)t, ioie in Straorg, bte 

©nnft 
Sfteignngen JaBcit bie ©otter, fte Iteben ber grimenben 

Sugenb 
£ocfigte @$eitet, eg ^iefjt $renbe bie ^rctjlidjen an* 
9ttd)t ber (Sefyettbe toirb son i^rer Srfdjeinnng befeligt, 
3f)rer £errlt$fett ©lan^ §at nnr ber 23Iinbe gefcfyaut- 
©ern ertoaf)ien fte fid) ber Stnfalt finbttdje (Seete, 

3tt bag befc^eibne ©efdf fdtfiefen fte.©ottlid)eg eitu 
Ungeijojft ftnb fte ia unb taufc^ett bte ftotge Srtoartnng, 

^eineg 23anneg ©etoatt gnunget W ^reten fjerab, 
S3em er geneigt, bem fenbet ber SSater ber 9)ienfdjen 

unb ©otter 
(Seinen 2lbler §erab, tragt tfjn ju ^immlif^en £o§m 



267 

And on whose forehead great Zeus stamped the im- 
pression of might ! 

Truly, a glorious lot is his, — ay ! e'en a divine one, 

For, ere the contest begins, wreathed with a crown is 
his brow ; [meted, 

Ere he has lived it, the fulness of life as his portion is 

Ere he has labor endured, he has to Charis attained. 

Great I must call the man, who, his own creator and 
sculptor, 

Vanquishes even the Fates, by his strong virtue alone ; 

Fortune, alas ! he ne'er can o'ercome, and what Charis 
refuses 

Grudgingly, ne'er can he reach, strive with what cour- 
age he may. 

Thou can'st defend thee with resolute will from what 
is unworthy ; 

All that is noble the gods freely send down from above. 

As thou art loved by the loved one, so fall the gifts 
granted by heaven ; 

Yonder, in Jupiter's realm, Favor is lord, as in Love's. 

Gods by affections are governed, — the curly locks of 
green childhood [led. 

Love they full well, for the glad ever by rapture are 

'Tis not they who can see that are ever made blest by 
their presence,— [revealed. 

No one save he who is blind views their bright glory 

Gladly they choose for themselves simplicity's innocent 
spirit, [close. 

And in the vessel so meek, that which is godlike en- 
All unforeseen they come, deceiving each proud ex- 
pectation, 

No anathema's might forces the free ones from high. 

Down to the man whom he loves, the Father of men 
and immortals 



268 



Untcr Me 9flenge grelft er nttt (StgenftnTfen, lint) toefcfyeg 
£anpt if)m gefallet, urn ba^ fli$t er tnit lieknber 

£anb 
3e£t ben Soroeer nnb jejjt bie tjerrfdjaftgebenbe 23inbe, 
Bronte bod) felber ben ©ott nnr bag getoogene ©tiitt 
23or bem ©terblidjen $er tritt tyfyobuz, ber p9t$if$e 

(Sieger, 
Hub ber bie Jper^en Be^ingr, 2lmor, ber lacfyelnbe 

©ott 
23or vfjm eBnet $)ofetbon bag Sfteer, fanft glettet beg 

@(|tffeg 
tfiel, bag ben (£afar fu^rt nnb fein aflmadjtigeg 

©litci 
3$m gn giif en fegt fldj ber 2en, bag branfenbe Defytjm* 
©teigt ang ben Sttefen, nnb fromm Uut eg ben Otiicfen 

tfjrn an* 
3itrne bem ©titdlidjen nid)t, bag ben leidjten <Steg 

ifym bie ©otter 
(Sdjenfen, bajj au$ ber <5fylafyt $enng ben £ie&* 

ling entriidt 
3§n, ben bie £adjelnbe retter, ben ©ottergeliebten be* 

neib' i$, 
3enen nidjt, bem fie mit 9tad)t bedt ben oerbnnM* 

ten ©ltd, 
2Bar er toeniger Jjerrtid), Sldjiffeg, toetl tym $ep$$jfa6 
©elfcft gefdjmiebet ben @djilb nnb bag oerberMicfye 

<Sd)tt>ert, 
SBeil urn ben jterbltc^en SKann ber groge Dfymp fldj 

beioeget? 

* @rfle £e$art: 

Stym ge^ord)ten bie toitben ©emitter, ba$ fcraufenbe T>efyltfit 

(Steigt aui ben SLiefen unb fromm beut e3 bem fRMin fi$ bar. 
©in geborner £errfd)er ift atte$ <Sd)bne unb fteget 
2)urd) fein ru^tgeg SKalm, roie ein unjterfcttcfoer ®ott. 



268 

'Mongst the multitude ever pursues he his self-willed 

researches, 
And, when well pleased with a head, round it he 

wreathes with kind hand 
Now the laurel, and now the fillet dominion-bestow- 
ing— 
Favoring Fortune alone e'er can the god himself 

crown. 
Phoebus, the Pythian victor, precedes the happy one's 

footsteps, / 

And the subduer of hearts, Amor, the sweet-smiling 

god. 
Neptune makes level the ocean before him, the keel 

of the vessel 
Glides softly on, as it bears Csesar and Caesar's great 

fate. 
Down at his feet sinks the roaring lion, the blustering 

dolphin* 
Mounts from the deep, and his back offers with meek- 
ness to Him. 
Envy the happy one not, if an easy triumph the' 

immortals [serves. 

Grant him, or if from the fight Venus her darling pre- 
Him whom that smiling one rescues, the favored of 

heaven, I envy, [throws. 

Not the man o'er whose eyes she a dark covering 
Should Achilles be reckoned less glorious, in that 

Hephaestus [sword, 

Fashioned his buckler himself, fashioned his terrible 
In that around him when dying the whole of Olympus 

was gathered ? 



* Original version : 
All the wild creatures humbly obey him, the blustering dolphin 

Mounts from the deep, and his back offers with meekness and awe. 
One born a ruler is all that is beautiful, and conquers, 

By his silent approach, like an Immortal, a God. 



269 

£)ag ttertjerrKdjet itjn, bag ifjtt bie ©otter geTtetrt, 
3)ag fte fein 3wrnen geetyrt, unb SRuljnt bent SieMtng 

$u geBen, 
£ellag Befteg ©efd)te$t ftitr^ten gum £)r?ug J)inaD>* 
3itrne bet @d)6nl;ett nifyt, bag fte fdjon ift, bag fte 

tterbtenfttog, 
2Bie ber Silie $et$, prangt burdj ber 23enug ©e* 

fd&enfl 
Sag fie bie ©TMid&e fein; bu fd)auft fte, bu Wf* ber 

Seglittftel 
2Gte fte iVfjne 35erbtenft gtangt, fo entjiidet fie bi$. 
greue bidj, bag bie ©afce beg £tebg tiom £immel Ijerap* 

fommt, 
£)ag ber ©anger bir ftngt, tt>a§ i§m bie Sftufe ge* 

Ufytl 
SBeil ber ©ott ityn fcefeett, fo fcirb er bent £orer $um 

©otte; 

SBeil er ber ©IMtdje ift, fannft bn ber (Setige fein* 

2htf bent gef^aftigen Wlaxtt, ba fitfyte Xtyenttg bie 2Bage, 

Unb eg meffe ber So$n ftreng an ber Sftitfje ftd) ao; 

2T6er bie $reube ruft nur ein ©ott anf fterHicfye 2Bangen, 

2Bo fein 2Bunber gefd)iet)t, ift fein 23eglittfter gu fe^n, 

2Hleg 9ttenfcfyti$e ntug erft toerben unb raadjfen unb 

reifen, 
Unb son ©eftatt ju ©eftatt fityrt eg bie Mlbenbt 

Beit; 
2H>er bag ©Httftidje ftefyeft bu ni$t, ba$ (Sdjime nt$t 

toerben, 
gertig son (Str-igfeit tjer ftetjt eg sotlenbet fcor bir. 
3ebe trbifcfye 2Senug erfte^t, ttrie bie erfte beg £immetg, 



* 2>te crfte 5lusjgabe ertt^filt fofgenbe ©telle: 

Um ben I>etltgen £erb ftrttt Jpeftor, aber ber ftromme 
©an! beat Sefliucften, benn it)m tcaren bie ©otter nic&t $oft>. 



269 

Great was his glory, in truth, in that the gods loved 

him well ; [to their fav'rite, 

In that they honored his wrath, and to give renown 
Hurled the best of the Greeks down to the darkness 

of hell.* [sweet calyx 

Envy not beauty because she shines like the lily's 
Owing to Venus' s gift, void of all merit herself. 
Let her the happy one be ; if thou seest her, thou, 

then, art the blest one ! 
As without merit she shines, so thou art joyed by her 

charms. [heavens, 

Be thou glad that the gift of song descends from the 
And that thou hear'st from the bard what he has 

learned from the muse ! 
Since by the God he's inspired, a God he becomes to 

the hearer ; [be. 

Since he the happy one is, thou canst the blissful one 
In the busy market let Themis appear with her bal- 
ance, [toil ; 
Let the reward mete itself, strictly proportioned to 
Only a God can tinge the cheeks of a mortal with 

rapture, — 
Where no miracle is, there can no blest one be found. 
All that is human must first be born, must grow, and 

must ripen, [on ; 

And from shape on to shape, fashioning Time leads it 
But thou seest not the blissful, the beautiful, come 

into being, 
Since the beginning of time, perfect they ever have 

been. [arises 

Every Yenus of earth, like the first one of heaven, 



* The first edition contains the following : 
Hector fought bravely for all that was sacred, but Fortune, as victim, 
Claimed the good soul, for the Gods had withheld their favor from 
him. 
41 



270 

(£fne bunfle (Murt au$ bem Knenbltcfyen 9tteer; 
2Bie bie erfte 9ftinem, fo tritt, mit ber Slegtg gerttjkt, 
2lu^ beg 2)onnererg £aupt jeber ©ebanfe beg Stdjtg,* 



per $enhts.t 

„©rauP f$," foric&ji bit, „bem SBort, bag ber SBetgtjeit 

Stteijier mid) Ief)ren, 
„2)a3 ber £ef)rlinge (Sdjaar jt$er unb fertig fce* 

fdjfeort? 
„$ann bte SBtffenfdjaft nur jum tx»a^ren grteben midj 

fiityren, 
„9?ur beg @9ftemeg (Malf fhtfcen bag ©titd unt> 

1>a$ 9ta$t? 
^ufj i$ bem Zxitb mtfitraun, ber leife mify ttarnt, 

bem ®efe£e, 
„©ag bu felfcer, *ftatur, mir in ben 23ufen gepragt, 
„23ig auf bie ettuge ©cfyrift bie ©djuP ifyr ©iegel 

gebrittfet, 
„ttnb ber $ormel ©cfa'g Mnbet ben flitd)ttgen ®eijt? 
„<Sage bu mtr 1 g, bu Mft in biefe STtefen geftiegen, 

„2lug bem mobrigten ©rab famft bu erfyalten suriid 
„£>ir ift fcefannt, tt>ag bie ®ruft ber bunfetn SBorter 

fcewatyret, 
„Db ber SeBenben £roft bort Bet ben SRumien too^nt? 
„9ftug tdj ifyn nmnbeln, ben nadjtlt^en 2Beg? SJttr 

grant, ify Befenn 1 eg! 
„2£anbeln toiU ity tyn bodj, fit$rt er gu 2Ba§r$elt 
unb 3fte$t" — 

* 2>ie erfte STwggafce r)at jum <5<$Iufj: 

2lber bu nenneft ts ©liicf, unb betner eigenen 23Hnbr)eir 

Beifyfr bu serwegen ben ©ott, ben betn 33egrtff nidjt begreift. 
+ Die Ueberfc&rift bie|e$ ©ebi$ts in ben £oren son 1795 war: Sftatur 
unb ©c&ule. 



270 

Only an ill-defined form, out of the infinite sea ; 
But, like the first Minerva, proceeds, with the segis 

provided, 
Every lightning-like thought out of the thunderer's 

brain. * 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



GENIUS, f 

"Do I believe," sayest thou, "what the masters of 

wisdom would teach me, 
And what their followers' band boldly and readily 

swear ? [knowledge, 

Cannot I ever attain to true peace, excepting through 
Or is the system upheld only by fortune and law ? 
Must I distrust the gently-warning impulse, the pre- 
cept [pressed, 
That thou, Nature, thyself hast in my bosom im- 
Till the schools have affixed to the writ eternal their 

signet, [soul ? 

Till a mere formula's chain binds down the fugitive 
Answer me, then ! for thou hast down into these 

deeps e'en descended, — [return. 

Out of the mouldering grave thou didst uninjured 
Is't to thee known what within the tomb of obscure 

words is hidden, [dwell ? 

Whether, yon mummies amid life's consolations can 
Must I travel the darksome road ? The thought 

makes me tremble ; [right." — 

Yet I will travel that road, if 'tis to truth and to 



* The first edition concludes with the following couplet : 
Fortune thou calls't it, and even darest to charge thy own blindness 

To the Almighty God, whom thou canst not comprehend. 

f The original title of this poem, in the Horen of 1795, was Nature 
and the School. 



271 

greunb, bu fennjt botfj bie golbene 3eit? (£3 ^afon bie 

Dieter 
5D?anc^e ©age oon ityr ritfjrenb unb finblitty ergatytt — 
3ene 3^ ba bag ipeilige ttodj im CeBen getocmbelt, 
Da iungfraultcfy unb fenfdj nod) bag ©efitt)t fid^ 

Betoatyrt, 
Da no$ $a$ grope ®efe£, bag ooen im ©onnenlauf 

waftet, 
Unb, oerBorgen im (Si, reget ben tyiipfenben $unft, 
9?od) ber Sftot^menbigfeit ftltteg ©efefc, bad ftattge, 

gleidje, 
$udj ber menfd)Ii$en S3rujt freiere SBetfen Betoegt, 
Da nidjt irrenb ber ©inn unb treu, irate ber 3 e *0 er am 

Utyrtraerf, 
2lnf bag SBatyrtyaftige nur, nur auf bag (Siraige 

irate* ? — 
Da traar fein $rofaner, fein ©tngetraeUjter gu fetyen, 
2Qa$ man leoenbig empfanb, traarb tttdjt Bet XoWn 

gefuctyt; 
©teid) oerftanbttdj fur jegltdjeg ^>erj war bie etraige 

iRegel, 

©leidj oerBorgen ber £ueft, bem fte BeleBenb entflofj* 

2fBer bie gtitcfftdje 3«t ift baljtn! Sermejfene SBitlfur 

$at ber getreuen 9tatur gottltttyen grieben gejtort* 

Da^ enttoeityte ©efitfyl ift nitty t metyr ©ttmme ber 

©otter, 

* Die erjte SluSgafce Ijat 5ter nodj fctgenbe 3Berfe unb Skranberungt 

SBoIfigt fttefjr ber Inmmlifdje ©rrom in fdjulbtgen Jperjen, 

Sauter nurb er unb rein nur an bem Duel! no$ gefd)opfr» 
liefer £Utett, ttef unten tin Scr>ad)t be» reinen 2}erfianbe3, 

gem son ber Seibenfdjaft Spur, riefelt er ftfbem unb tix% 
5lu» ber Sinne atfbem ©erdufdj ocrfdjaanb la» Crafet, 

9lflv ?n bem jriHeren Selbft fjort t$ ber Ijordjenbe ©eijt. 
$b>r H* ©ijfenfdjaft nur sermag ben 3ugang ju offnen, 

Unb fcen fcettigen ©inn §iuet bat mg\ii\^t 2Dort. 



271 

Friend, hast thou heard of the golden age ? Full many 

a story [sung — 

Poets have sung in its praise, simply and touchingly 
Of the time when the holy still wandered over life's 

pathways, — 
When with a maidenly shame ev'ry sensation was 

veiled, — [orbit, 

"When the mighty law that governs the sun in his 
And that, concealed in the bud, teaches the point how 

to move, [less, 

When necessity's silent law, the steadfast, the change- 
Stirred up billows more free, e'en in the bosom of 

man, — [the dial, 

When the sense, unerring, and true as the hand of 
Pointed only to truth, only to what was eterne ? — 

Then no profane one was seen, then no Initiate was 

met with. 
And what as living was felt, was not then sought 

'mongst the dead ; 
Equally clear to every breast was the precept eternal, 
Equally hidden the source whence it to gladden us 

sprung ; [presumption 

But that happy period has vanished ! And self-willed 
Nature's godlike repose now has forever destroyed.* 
Feelings polluted the voice of the deities echo no 

lonser, 



* The first edition here contains the following verses and altera- 
tions : 

Cloudy flows the Heavenly stream in hearts that are guilty, 
Pure yet and clear, it can be but at the fountain-head drawn. 
And this fountain, down in the deeps of the clear understanding, 
Far from passion's abode, silvery ripples and cool. 
Out of the wild agitation of sense the oracle vanished, 
Save in the silenter self, the listening soul cannot find it. 
Knowledge, and knowledge alone can ever open the portal, 
And the mystical word watcheth the meaning divine. 



272 

Unb bag Drafet tterftnmmt in ber entabetten 33ruf. 
Vlnx in bem ftilleren ©elbft tternimmt eg ber §ordjenbe 

©eift nod), 
Unb ben ^eiligen ©inn fjittet bag mpfttfcfye 2Borh 
£ier fcefdjttort eg ber gorfdjer, ber reineg ^erjeng 

!()inaBfteia,t, 
Unb bie serlorne 9?atnr gt6t i§m bie SBeigfjeit jnriicf* 
£aft bn, ©liitftidjer, nie ben f$it£enben (Sngel »er* 

loren, 
Sfte beg frommen 3njtmctg lieBenbe SSarmtna, fcer* 

ttirft, 
SJlatt in bem fenfcfyen 2htge no$ tren nnb rein ftdj bie 

2Baf)rf)eit, 
%'ont itjr Jftnfen bir no$ Jjefl in ber finbtidjen S3mfl 
©djttetgt nodj in bem anfriebnen ©emiitlj beg QtotU 

felg (Empornng, 
SBirb jte, toetfit bn'g getoig, f^tretgen anf eang, foie 

^ent, 
SSMrb ber (Smpftnbnngen ©treit nie eineg 3fti$terg Be* 

biirfen, 
*ftie ben ^ellen 23erftanb triiBen bag titcftfdje ^>er^ — * 
D bann gelje bn fyin in beiner fojtttdjen Unfdfyntb! 
£)idj fann bie SBiffenfcfyaft nicfytg lefyrem ©ie feme 

son bir! 
Seneg ©efe£, bag mit e^rnem <5tah ben <StranBenben 

lenfer, 
£)ir nifyt gilt' a. 2Bag bn tfjuft, t»as bir gefattt, ij* 
©efefcf 

* 3n ber erflen 2lu$ga6e folgten Ijier noclj bie 33erfe: 

fSlit ber oerfd^agene 2Bi$ be$ ©ewtffeitS (girtfalt beftricfett, 
SftiemalS, n?eigt bu'$ gewig, wanfett ba$ et»ige ©teu'r — 

■J- 2)t£ erfle Sluggabe fyat 6ter nodj folgenbe 3?erfe unb 33eranberunjj : 
£errfd)en teirb burd) bie ewige Beit, wie 3>oIgfIet« SftegeU 
2Ba$ bu mit ^etliger £anb brtbejt, mit fyeiligem 2ttunb 



272 

In the dishonored breast now is the oracle dumb. 

Save in the silenter self, the listening soul cannot find 
it, [divine ; 

Tliere does the mystical word watch o'er the meaning 

There does the searcher conjure it, descending with 
bosom unsullied ; [again. 

There does the nature long-lost give him back wisdom 

If thou, happy one, never hast lost the angel that 
guards thee, [forth ; 

Forfeited never the kind warnings that instinct holds 

If in thy modest eye the truth is still purely depicted ; 

If in thine innocent breast clearly still echoes its call ; 

If in thy tranquil mind the struggles of doubt still are 
silent, 

If they will surely remain silent for ever, as now ; 

If by the conflict of feelings a judge will ne'er be re- 
quired ; 

If in its malice thy heart dims not the reason so clear,* 

Oh, then, go thy way in all thy innocence precious ! 

Knowledge can teach thee in nought : thou canst in- 
struct her in much ! 

Yonder law that with brazen staff is directing the 
struggling, 

Nought is to thee. What thou dost, what thou mayst 
will, is thy law,t 

* Here, in the first edition, follow these verses : 

Conscience' simplicity if not ensnared by the wit that is wily, 
If the eternal helm 1 never more wavers for thee — 

f The first edition here contains the following additional verses and 
alterations : 

And like that law of Polycletus, ruleth forever ! 
What thou with holy hand forms't, what thou with holy mouth speaks't, 



1 The eternal helm (das ewige Steuer), is a figure leaving not a little 
to the imagination. It can only mean the rule, the law whereby life 
is regulated. 



273 



Unb an atfe ©efdjtedjter ergetyt ein gottltdjeg $)lafyU 

toort: 
2Bag bn mtt tjetfiger £anb Bilbeft, mit ^etttgem SSftnnb 
^Rebeft, ttirb ben erftannten ©inn allmad)tig Bemegen; 
£)n nnr merfft nicfyt ben ©ott, ber bir im 23nfen 

.geBent, 
ytifyt beg ©iegetg ©ett?alt, bag atle ©eifter bir fcenget, 
(gtnfat^ gef)ft bn nnb ftitf bnvd) bie erokrte SBeft* 



per pijtfofopfjifdje ^gotff. 

£ajt bn ben ©angling gefefyn, ber, nnBenmgt no$ ber 

SieBe, 
$)ie tj)n ttarmet nnb ttuegt, f^Iafenb son $rme gu 

2lrm 
SQanbert, Big Bet ber Seibenfcfyaft ^ftuf ber Singling 

erti?ad)et, 
Unb be^ 33ettn£tfeing 23lij3 bammernb bie 2Mt it)m 

er^etft? 
£aj* bn bie 9ttntter gefe^n, tr-enn fte (it^en ©cfylnmmer 

bem SieBUng 
$anft mit bem eigenen ©cfylaf nnb fiir bag tran* 

ntenbe forgt, 
9JUt bem eigenen £eBen erna^rt bie jitternbe ftlammt, 
Unb mtt ber ©orge felbft \i&> fiir bie ©orge BeM)nt? 
Unb bn laftevft bie grojje Sftatnr, bie, Balb $inb nnb 

Balb Gutter, 
3e£t empfanget, jefet giBt, nnr bnrdj 23ebiirfnt£ 
Beftef)t? 

SKebefi, tvtrb bie £er$en ber Sflenf&en aflmad)Hg fcetuegen, 

2)u nur mer!ft nic^t ben ©otr, ber bir im 53ufen gebeut, 
9lid)t bes ©iegets ©ewalt, bat atle ©eifter bir beuget, 
(ginfadj gefjfl bu uitb (till burd) bie eroberte ©eft. 
Slber blinb erringfr bu, leas foir im £id)te oerfebtert, 
Unb bem fpieleuben $mte glittft, was bem SBeifen mifjKngt. 
•Skitters fdmmtt. SCerfe. I. 18 



273 

And to every race a godlike authority issues. 

What thou with holy hand form'st, what thou with 
holy mouth speak'st, 

Will with omnipotent power impel the wondering 
senses ; [own breast, 

Thou but observ'st not the G-od ruling within thine 

Not the might of the signet that bows all spirits be- 
fore thee ; [thou hast won. 

Simple and silent thou go'st through the wide world 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE PHILOSOPHICAL EGOTIST. 

Hast thou the nursling beheld, who yet of the love 

unconscious, [to arm 

Which both warms him and moves, sleeping, from arm 
Passes, until by Passion's call the youth is awakened, 
When the first dawning of sense lights the whole world 

to his view ? 
Hast thou the Mother beheld, when she buys for her 

darling sweet slumber 
Ev'n at her own rest's price, tenderly watching its 

dreams — 
With her own breath maintains the nickering flame 

of his taper, [care ? 

And in the care she bestows finds the reward of her 
And canst thou slander great Nature, who — whether 

as infant or mother, 
Whether she gives or receives, but by necessity IS ? 



Will with omnipotent power stir the hearts of all mankind ; 
Thou but observ'st not the God ruling within thine own breast, 
Not the might of the signet that bows all spirits before thee ; 
Simpls and silent thou go'st through the wide world thou hast won. 
Blind x y thou gain'st what we in the light even fail to discover, 
And %e playing child will succeed, where the wise man will fail. 



274 



©elbfrgenngfam njiflji bn bem [gotten JRing btcfy ent* 

Steven, 
£)er ©cfdjopf an ©efdjopf rei^t in sertranltcfyem 

23nnb? 
SBitljt, bu 3Irmer, fietjen aHetn nnb atfein bnrdj bi^ 

felber, 
SBenn bnrdj ber tfrafte £anf$ felfcfi bag Unenb* 

Xid&e fte^t? 



5>te g$orfe foz ^fauiiett*. 

2)rei SGorte nenn' idj endj, in§altf$foer, 
©te gefjen son -Sftunbe ju Sftnnbe, 

£)odj ftammen fie nic^t son aufien $er; 
£)as £er$ nnr gtbt bason ^unbe, 

•Dem Sftenfdjen ift alter $3ertf) geranbt, 

SBenn er ntdjt mef)r an bie bvet SBorte glaubt 

£>er 9ftenf$ ift frei geffyaffen, tft fret, 
Unb nrnrb' er in jtetten geboren, 

Za$t end) nidjt irren be$ $iJbel3 ©efdjrei, 
Vlifyt ben 9fttfjbran$ rafenber £t)oren! 

SSor bem ©flaxen, ttenn er bie $ette bri^t, 

SSor bem freien Sftenfdjen ergittert nid)t! 

Unb bie Sngenb, fte ift fetn leerer ©djatf, 
£)er Slttenfd) !ann fte itben im Seben, 

Unb fouT er andj ftrancfyeln itberaff, 
G?r !ann na$ ber gottlicfyen ftreben, 

Unb n>a$ lein SSerftanb ber 23erftanbigen ftetjt, 

£)as iibet in Sinfalt ein finblid) ©emufijj, 

Unb ein ©ott ift, ein fjeiltger S3 tile lebt, 
2Bie and) ber menfdjltdje ttanfej 



274 

Say, wilt thou, self-sufficing, withdraw from the beau- 
tiful circle 

Creature to creature that still links in its infinite 
chain ? 

Wilt thou, poor Slanderer, stand thus alone, in thyself 
only centred, 

When but by mutual powers even the endless endures ? 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F. S.A. 



THE WORDS OF FAITH. 

Three words I utter, of priceless worth ; 

They are the wide world's treasure. 
Yet never on earth had they their birth, 

And the spirit their depth must measure. 
Man is ruined — poor — forlorn — 
When his faith in these holy words is gone. 

Man is Free created, — is Free — 
Though his cradle may be a prison. 

Mobs are no plea for tyranny, 
Nor rabble bereft of reason. 

Fear not the free man ; but tremble first 

Before the slave, when his chain is burst. 

And Virtue — Is Virtue an empty sound ? 

Man's life is to follow her teaching ; 
Fall as he may on the world's rough ground, 

To the G-odlike he still may be reaching. 
What never the wise by his wisdom can be, 
The childlike becomes in simplicity. 

And God, in Holy, Eternal Love, 
Beigns when Humanity falters ; 



275 

#o$ {iBer ber gut nnb bem Sftaume toeftt 

£ebenbig ber tyodjfte ©ebanfe, 
Unb od atleg in emigem 28e$fel fretjt, 
(£g garret im SBecfyfel ein rugger ®eijh 

£)ie brei SBorte fcetoa^ret end), inftattfc^roer, 
©ie pflanjet son Sftnnbe gn SSflunbe, 

Unb ftammen ffe glei$ nidjt son au£en $er, 
(Sner 3*tnreg gtot bason ^unbc, 

£)em 9ftenf$en ift nimmer fetrt SBertt) geranot, 

(£0 lang er nodj an bie bret $3orte gfanot. 



pie ^orfe 5e$ ^aiju*. 

£>ret SBorte §6rt man, bebentnnggfdjtoer, 
3m Sflnnbe ber ®nten unb 23eften* 

<5ie [fallen serge&Iid), it)r ^lang ift leer, 
(Sie fonnen nid)t Ijelfen unb troften* 

SSerf^er^t ift bem Siftenfdjen beg Meng ftxufyt, 

<3o lang er bie ©fatten ju fyafd)en fndjt- 

(So lang er glanot an bie golbene Qtit, 
$3o bag SFtec^te, bag ®nte toirb ftegen — 

SDag SRedjte, bag ©nte fu$rt emig ©treir, 
Sftie toirb ber geinb i^m erliegen, 

Unb erfttcfft bn tfyn nid)t in ben £itften fret, 

©tetg ioacfyft i§m bie ^raft auf ber (Srbe neu* 

(So tang er gfaitot, bag bag Bn^Ienbe ©litcf 
(Stdj bem (Sbetn oereinigen toerbe — 

£)em @djled)ten folgt eg mit SteoegMicf; 
9?idjt bem ©uten gepret bie (Srbe, 

dv ift ein trembling, er manbert au$, 

Unb fndjet tin nnoergangtid) £>ang,. 



275 



Through limitless being his energies move ; 

His purpose of good never alters ; 
Through changes may circle all matter and time ; 
God dwells in the peace of Perfection sublime. 

O, trust in these words of mightiest power ; 

They are the wide world's treasure ; 
Through ages they've been man's richest dower, 

And the spirit their depth must measure. 
Never is Man of Good bereft, 
If his faith in these holy words is left. 

William H. Channing. 



THE WORDS OF ERROR. 

Three words are current on every tongue, 
The best in their worth believing ; 

But they bring no blessing to old or young ; 
They're meaningless, false, deceiving ; 

Man's toil and trouble are all in vain, 

So long as these shadows he seeks to gain ; — 

So long as he dreams of a golden age, 
Where Goodness is peacefully dwelling ; 

For the good a merciless fight must wage 
The demon of darkness in quelling ; 

Then strangle the fiend in the deadly strife, 

Or, struck to the earth, he will spring to life ;- 

So long as capricious Fortune's smile 
He dreams of his winning by merit ; 

The evil she follows with blandishing smile ; 
Her pleasures no good men inherit ; 

Pilgrims and wayfarers, born to die, 

They seek never-ending joys on high ; — 



276 

©o Tang er cjiavftt, bag bent trVfdjen 23erftanb 
£)ie 2Ba$r$ett je toirb erfdjeinen — 

Stjren ©deleter Jefct feme fierMidje £anb$ 
2Bir fonnen nur ratten unb meinen* 

S)u ferferft ben ®eift in ein tonenb 2Bort, 

•Dodj ber freie wanbelt im ©turme fort* 

£)rum, eble @eele, entreig btdj bem 2Batjn, 
Unb bctt tjimmlifd)en ®Iaukn Bematjre! 

2Bag lein Dl)r tternatjm, wag bie Slitgen nic^t fatyn, 
(£g ift bettnod) bag ©cfyone, bag SBatjre! 

(£g ift ntdjt braufien, ba fudjt eg ber £§or$ 

(£g ift in bir, bn fcrtngft eg e»tg $er»or* 



Jpritdje 5es gonftteius. 

i. 

£)retfadj ift ber <5<$rttt ber 3eit; 
36gernb fommt bie 3ufunft ^ergegogen, 
spfeilfdmetl ifl bag 3e£t entflogen, 
(Swig jlitt ftef)t bie ^ergangenjjeit* 

$eine Ungebulb Befliigelt 
Sfjren <&§xitt, mnn \k ttermeilt. 
$eine $ur$t, lein 3^"f^« giigelt 
3fjren Sauf, n>enn fie enteilt 
Sitiw 9teu, Mn 3ankrfegen 
$ann W ©tetjenbe fcewegetu 

Sftodjteftbu Begtutft nnb tocife 
(£nbigen beg %tbm$ Steife, 
9timm bie 3ogernbe gum SRafy, 
sfticfyt gum 2Berfgeug betner £§at 
SSSafyle nidjt bie gliefjenbe gum greunb, 
9tt$t bie 23letfcenbe gum geinb* 



276 

So long as he dreams on the earthly wise 
That Truth ever smiles with her blessing ; 

She lifts not her veil for the proud mortal's eyes, 
And man's boasted reasonings are guessing. 

Wouldst prison the spirit in empty sounds ? 

It is free, and sweeps the creation's bounds. 

O, guard from these errors, thou noble heart, 
Thy birthright of Faith first given ; [part, 

Let the world from Truth's worship thy soul never 
For her beauty and bliss are of heaven. 

Let fools, vainly seeking, the world hurry through ; 

She dwells in thy spirit. Be true, then, be true. 
William H. Channing. 



SAYINGS OF CONFUCIUS. 
I. 
The steps of Time have a threefold gait 
Loitering slow, the Future advances ; 
Arrow-swift by, the Present glances ; 
Ever the Past holds its fixed estate. 

No impatient thought can wing it, 
When its lingering feet delay ; 

Fear nor doubt to pause can bring it, 
As it speeds away, — away ; 

Noj magic charm, nor guilt's distress, 

Avails to move the Motionless. 

"Wouldst thou with the blest and wise 

End the course that before thee lies ? 

Let the Loiterer counsel read, 

But ne'er be partner to thy deed ; 

Do not a friend with the Flying one go, 

Nor make the Unchangeable one thy foe. 



277 

2. 

£reifadj ijt beS 2ftaume3 Sftafj. 
SftaftloS fort efyn' Unterlafj 
Street bie Sana, e; fort in3 2Beite 
gnbloy a,ie§et (let) tie 33reite; 
©runbfoy fenft bie £iefe |1dj, 

J)tr eirt 53ilb fittb fie gegeoett: 
SRafitog wrwartg mujjt bai ftreften, 
9Ue erntiibet (title (term, 
STBittfi bu bie SSottenbuitg fefjtt; 
SOiugt iny 53reite bid) entfaften, 
©oil ftcfe bit bie SBelt geftattenj 
3n bie Xiefe mupt bu fteigen, 
©oil ftdj bir bctc SBefeit jeigeit* 
9htr 33et)armng fitt)rt gum 3ict, 
9cur bie ftiitfe fitfyrt gur ^farBett, 
Unb im 2I6a,runb toot)nt bie 23at)rt)eit. 



£)er Befpre 9ftettfd6 tritt in bie SSelt 
SOcit fret)tid)em SSertrauen; 

(£r glaufct, »a$ it)m bie @eete fdjtoetft, 
2luct) au§er fid) gu fdjauen, 

Unb roeiljt, oon eblem Sifer roarm, 

£er 2£a6rt)eit feinen trenen Strut* 

£>odj allec i|'t \o ffein, fo eng; 

ipat er t3 erji erfafcren, 
£a fudbt er in bent SBeltgebrang 

(Bid) felbft nur ^u oeroat)ren; 
3)a3 £erg f in rafter, ftolger d\ul), 
(gdjtiept enolidj jidj bet* Sieoe gu* 



277 

II. 

Threefold is the form of Space. 

Length sets on with steady race, 
Kestless far and forward leading ; 
Boundless, Breadth is each side spreading ; 
Fathomless does Depth descend. 

These are emblems to thee granted. 
Forward still must thou undaunted, 
Never tired or standing still, 
Wouldst thou thy true end fulfil ; 
Must thyself in Breadth unfold, 
Wouldst thou the world's image hold ; 
Into Depth must see to go, 
If Existence thou wouldst know. 
Wouldst reach the goal, then persevere ; 
Only in Fulness art thou clear ; 
Only low down will Truth appear. 

N. L. Frothingham. 



LIGHT AND WARMTH. 

The world the generous spirit meets, 
Free-hearted, nought concealing ; 

Trusting to find in all he greets 
His own o'erflowing feeling ; 

Pledging, with honest fervor warm, 

To Truth the aid of his true arm. 

But men are selfish, mean, and small, 
He fails not long of seeing ; 

The worldly throng are eager all 
To seek their own well-being. 

Sullen and cold he stands apart, 

And love is frozen in his heart. 

42 



278 

<5te geSen, afyl ntcbt immer ©Iut§, 

£>er aSa^r^cit $etle Btrafym. 
23ot>I benen, bie beS SDtfend ©ut 

9?id)t ntit bem £er$en ^a^Ien* 
£>rum paart gu eurem fcfyonfren <$IM 
fSlit SdjwdrmerS Gmtji bes 23eltmannS Slid I 



'gSreife lttib ^tefe. 

Ss gldnjen siele in ber SBelr, 
©tc toiffen son attem gu fagen, 
Unb wo was rei^et unb wo was gefattt, 
9ftan fann eS Bet ifjnen erfragen; 
Sftan bdcfyte, Ijort man fie reben laut, 
<Sie fatten wirflicfy erobert bie 33raut. 

Qofy gef)n fie auS ber SGelt gang flitt, 
Sfyr Sebert war oerloren. 
2£er etwas £refflid)es Icijren will, 
£dtf gern was ©rofes geboren, 
£>er fammle ftiU unb unerfd)lap 
3m fleinften *Punfte We f)od)fte graft 

SDer (stamm ertjebt fidj in bie Suft 
SCttt iippig prangenben 3weigen; 
£>ie flatter glan^en unb fyaudjen £>ufr, 
;Dod| fonnen fie f5viict)te nid)t ^eugen; 
£)er ^ern atlein im fd>malen SRaum 
SSerbirgtben ©tofj bes SBalbes, ben 23aum« 



3weiertei ©enien ftnb'S, W bi$ burets Se^en geleiten* 
SQBoJI btr, wenn ffe oereint ^elfenb gur ©eite btr 

fteljn! 



278 

Alas ! Truth's brightest beaming ray- 
Too oft no heat diffuses ; 

He's blest, who, with experience gray, 
No youthful ardor loses. 

"Wouldst thou attain thy highest good, 

Blend warmth of heart with wisdom shrewd. 
William H. Charming. 



BREADTH AND DEPTH. 
There are many who shine in the world's broad light, 

Who are able of all things to chatter, 
And, whatever may charm, or whatever delight, 

Will tell you the whole of the matter. 
To hear them discourse, in their glory and pride, 
You might think they had really conquered the bride. 

But out of the world in silence they go, 
And their memories straightway perish. 

Whoever would learn what is worthy to know, 
Or achieve what 'tis worthy to cherish, 

Let him still be collecting, from hour to hour, 

In narrrowest point the mightiest power. 

The Oak's proud stem mounts up to the sky 

With boughs wide branching over ; 
The air they perfume, and they gladden the eye, 

But no fruit their leaves discover. 
In the Acorn hidden, alone you'll see 
The pride of the forest, the stately tree. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F. S. A. 



THE GUIDES OF LIFE.* 

Two kinds of genii there are, through life's mazy path- 
ways to guide thee ; [side ! 
Happy art thou if they stand, joined into one by thy 

* Originally entitled The Beautiful and the Sublime. 



279 



SftU ertjetternbem (Spiel Berfurjt bir ber etne bie SReife, 
£ettf)ter an feinem 5(rm toerben bir ©djidfal unb 

Unter (&fytx% unb ©efpradj Begleitet er MS an bie JUuft 

bid), 
2Bo an ber Snugteit 9tteer fc^aubernb ber ©terMidje 

»t 
£ier etnpfangt bid) entfdjlofjen unb ernft imb fdjiuet* 

genb ber anbre, 
£ragt mti gigantifcfyem 2Irm itfrer bie Siefe bid) $ht* 
dimmer nubme bid) einem atlein! 53ertraue bem erftern 
£)eine SGurbe nidjt an, nimmer bem anbern bein 

©laid! 



%xdjjmtbtz unb ber g>djftfer. 

Qu 2frd)tmebeS fam ettt. nnf&egieriger 3iingXtng* 
„23etfye xaify," fpradj er 3U tf)m, „em in bie gottlic^e. 

$unft, 

£ie fo fterrltcfte ^rudjt bem 2*aterlanbe getragen, 
Unb bie Ttautxn ber ©tabt Por ber Samfotca * Be* 

„QDotttid> nennjt bn bie $unft? @ie iffs," perfe^teber 

Beife; 
„5l6er bag war fte, mein (Sofjn, e§ fte itm €>taat 

nod) gebient* 
SBilljt ))u nnr gntdjte Pon tfjr, bie fann au$ bie 

<SterMidje gengen; 
2Ber urn bie ©ottin freit, fnd)e in i^r nidjt bag 
SBeiK" 

*Sfnmerfung bes SSerfafferS Bel ber erften STulgaBe. 2)er 
Flame einer 2Magerun>j*mafa)ine, beren ftcb. 2ftarcettuS gegen ©grafuS be- 
biente. 



279 

One with his gladdening sport beguileth thy tedious 

journey,— 
Duty and fate become light, when thou'rt upheld by 

his arm. 
Laughing and talking the while, he on to the chasm 

conducts thee, 
"Where, on eternity's sea, trembling mortality stands. 
There does the Other receive thee, with solemn resolve 

and in silence, 
And with his giant-like arm bears thee across the 

abyss. 
Ne'er to one only devote thee ! Thine honor ne'er 

think of confiding 
Into the hands of the first, nor to the other thy bliss ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



AKCHIMEDES AND THE STUDENT. 

Oistce came to Archimedes a youth, who thirsted for 
knowledge — 

' ' Do but instruct me, ' ' he said, ' ' Art's godlike features 
to trace ; 

"Which to our Fatherland has fruit so glorious ren- 
dered, 

And Syracusa's walls gainst the Sambuca* main- 
tained." 

"Deemest thou Science divine ? — She is so" — answered 
the wise man — 

" So was she also, my son, ere she gave aid to the state. 

Ask'st thou her only fruit such as mortal life may en- 
gender ? 

"Whoso a goddess courts, hopes not a woman to find." 
John Herman Merivale, Esq. , F. 8. A. 



* Author'' s note in the first edition. — The name of a machine used in 
eieges, employed by Marcellus against Syracuse. 



280 



SBetl bit Itefeft tit itjr, tt>a3 bu felber in fte gcft^tte^ert, 
SBetf bit in ®ruppen fitr$ Slug' t^re Srfdjetnungen 

£)etne (Sdjnitre ge^ogen attf vfjrem unenbttdjen $elbe, 
SBafmjt bu, e$ faffe bem ®et(t afynenb bie grofe 

9?atur> 
(So fcef^reiot mtt ^tguren ber Sljtronome ben $immtl, 
£)a§ in bem enngen SRaum leister ft$ fmbe ber 

SBliff, 
$nitpft entlegene ©ounen, burdj (StrtuSfernen ge* 

fcfyieben, 
2metnanber im (&fyftan nnb in ben Qoxntxn beg 

(StterS* 
2ttjer ijerjretjt er barum ber ©pljaren m^fttfdje San^e, 
SBeil tym ba$ ©terneugetr-olb fetn $lantgloMum 

Seigt? 



5>ie stx)ci ^ugenbtDcge. 

3n?et jtnb ber SSege, auf tuelc^en ber SD?ertf(^ $ur Xu* 

genb emporftrefct; 
©djttefit ftdj ber etne btr 3u r tf)ut ftd) ber anbre btr auf. 
#anbelnb errtngt ber ©litcf licfye fte, ber Setbenbe bulbenb. 
SSo^l tym, ben fein ©efc^itf liebenb auf oetben ge* 

fftfrtl 



SDSie bie ©Me be$ £i$ts auf be$ 23a$e$ SDetle fldj 

fpiegelt — 
$ett, mie son etgener ©lurtj, flammt ber sjergolbete 

©aumj 



280 



HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

Thou readest in Nature the test which on her page 
thou hast written. 

Arranged for thine eye in orderly series and groups, 

With lines and divisions according to system and com- 
pass. 

And fanciest thou knowest her great book, and com- 
prehendest her plan. [figures, 

Thus the astronomer draws upon the heavens his 

And roves with more ease among those infinite suns ; 

Unites in one system, in the Swan or the Virgin, 

The stars which, like Sirius, flame on measureless 
heights. 

But does the firmament drawn upon his globe with a 
compass, 

Tell us what wonderful wheels move yonder chorus of 
worlds ? 

Charles J. Hempel, M.D. 



THE TWO PATHS OF VIRTUE. 

Two are the paths by which Man may ascend to the 

summit of Virtue. 
Closed be the one, to his feet open the other is found. 
Striving, the Fortunate Man attains her — the Suff'rer 

enduring. 
Happy ! whose favoring Fate leads him by both to the 

goal. 

John Herman Merivale, JEsq., F. S. A. 



HONORS. 

When the broad column of light from the brook's 

clear wave is reflected, 
Bright gleams the margined gold, as with its own 

proper glow. 



281 

2T6er tie SBelF entfu^ret ber (Strom, bur$ ble glangenbe 

Strafe 
SDrangt eine anbre ftdj fdjon, fdjnell, tine bie erfie, gu 

fliefjn — 
(So Meudjtet ber SBiirben ©lang ben jbrMidjen 9flen* 

fd)en; 
Sftidjt er felojt, nut ber Drt, ben er burtfjioanbelte, 

gtanat 



2Bo bu au$ tvanbelft tm Return, eg fnitpft betn 3^**5 

unb Sftabir 
Sin ben £immel bid) ait, bid) an bie 2J$fe ber SBelt* 
2Bie bu aufy ^anbelft in bir, eg Beritfyre ben £immel 

ber ffiiEe, 
T)uxfy bie 2l$fe ber 2Mt gelje bie Sftidjtung ber ST^atl 



pie ibeafifefic gfreifjeit 

Slug bem £eoen Jjeraug [tub ber 2Bege gtoei bir geoffnet; 

3um Sbeale fitljrt einer, ber anbre gum £ob* 
Sie^e, baj? bu oei 3^tt nod) fret auf bem erjten ent* 

ftringeft, 
S^e bie ^arge mit 3ttAtt$ bidj auf bem anbern ent* 

ful&rt 



pas $in& iit ber 3$iege. 

©tndtidjer ©angling ! bir ijt ein unettbftdjer SHanm 

nod) bie SBiege, 
SBerbe Wlann unb bir nurb eng bie unenblicfye SSelt 



281 

But the swift stream bears the wave in its course ; 
through the glittering pathway 

Urges another behind — soon like the first to escape. 

So doth the lustre of Honors irradiate our mortal ex- 
istence. 

'Tis not itself, but the place through which it passes, 
that shines. 

John Herman M&rivale, Esq., F. S. A. 



ZENITH AND NADIR. 
"Wherever thou movest in space, thy Zenith and 

Nadir 
Subject thee to Heaven's own law, to the world's or- 
derly plan ; 
Whate'er may move thee to deeds, let thy will be mar- 
ried to heaven, 
And with the straight line of law let thy action agree ! 
Charles J. Hempel, M.D. 



IDEAL FREEDOM. 

Two highways before thee lie from realms of mortal 

breath ; 
One to the Ideal land — the other leads to Death. 
Look that thou spring forth betimes on that etherial 

way, 
Ere on the downward road the Eates thy struggling 

soul convey. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F. S. A. 



THE CHILD IN THE CRADLE. 

Happy infant ! in thy cradle endless space thou seem'st 

to see ; 
Be a man — and all creation is not wide enough for thee ! 

Charles T. Brooks. 



282 



5as 'gJCtuDanbeflJare. 

,Un<mf§aIrfam enteilet bte QtltJ' — (Ste fudjt bag 

Sefiattb'ge* 
@et getreu, unt) bu leg(i emige gejjeln i|r an* 



Hfjeopfjattte. 

3eigt ft<$ ber ©titcfltcfye mir, idj ijergejje bie ©otter t»c3 

£imme(g ; 
2H>er fte fiefju ttor mir, menu fdj beu 2eibeubeu fety\ 



ipas $odjffe. 

(Sudjjt bu bag £o$fle, bag ©rofte? 2)te ^flange !ann 

eg bt$ lefyretu 
SBag fte mittenlog tft, fei bu eg motfeub — W^ tjt's ! 



$or bem £ob erfdjricfft bu ! £>u amnfdjefi, uufierMtdj 

ju leben? 
Set)' im ©anjeu ! SBenn bu lange batyiu Mft, eg 

Weibt 



^oftDfafeftt. 

2Bag ber ©ott mt$ cjetetjrt, toa$ mir burd)g Ceoeu ge= 

Jjotfen, 
Jpaucf itf), bauf6ar unb fromm, ^ter in bem £etftg* 

ttjum auf* 



282 



THE UNCHANGEABLE. 

" Pausing for nought, Time hastens away. " — He seeks 

the Enduring. 
Be but true, and thou lay'st chains everlasting on him. 

John S. Dwight. 

THEOPHANIA. 

Show me the fortunate man, and the Gods I forget in 

a moment ; 
But before me they stand, when I the sufferer see. 

John S. Dwight. 

THE HIGHEST. 

Seek'st thou the Highest, the Greatest ? The plant 

may be thine instructor. 
"What that unconscious is, be thou by willing, — that 

is »t ! 

John S. Dwight. 

IMMORTALITY. 

Art thou frightened at Death ? And wouldst thou 

continue immortal ? 
Live in the Whole, then ! When thou long shalt have 

vanished, it stays. 

John 8. Dwight. 



YOTIVE TABLETS. 

That which I learned from the Deity, — that which 

through lifetime hath helped me, 
Meekly and gratefully now, here I suspend in his shrine. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



283 



Xk berfdjiefcene ScfHmtmmg. 

SJMtonen Befdjafrigen ftdj, ba§ bie ©attitttg fcjtefie; 
2l6er burd) SBentge nur pflatuet tie SRatfty^eit |tdj 

fort 

£aufenb ^etrne gerftreuet ber £erbji, bo6 ftringet !aum 

etner 

$riic6te; $um (Element feBren tie metften juritd 
2T6er entfaltet jt$ auA nur etner, etner allein ftreut 

(Sine lefonbtge SBclt enuger Stlbungen an^» 



£a$ Selefien&e. 

5^ur an be3 Men* ©ipfel, ber S3Iume, junbct ftdj 9?eue<3 
3n ber organifc^en SBelt, in ber empftnbenben an* 



Stoeterlet SBtrfungSarien. 

SBtrle ©ttied, bu na^rft ber 9Jtatfd$eit gottli^e 

^flange; 

SBilbe e$one3, bn ftreuft ^eime ber gottltc^en au$. 



Httferfc^teti ber <£iani>e. 

2frel tjt aufy in ber [tttlicfyen SBclt ©emetne ftaturen 
3a$len mit bem, tr-ayfte tljun, ebfe ntit tern, &a$ 

fte ftnb. 



£a£ SSerilje nub SSitrbige. 

£ajt bu er»a$, fo ttjette mtr'S nttt, nnb i$ jape, toa$ 

recftt tft; 
Sift bn ttttciZ, o bann tauftfyen bie Seelen ttir au3* 



283 



DIFFERENT DESTINIES. 

That by their labor Man's race may subsist, the Mil- 
lions bestir them ; 

But through a portion alone doth its existence endure. 

Autumn scatters its thousand seeds. Scarce one of the 
thousand [turn. 

Bringeth forth fruit ; and the rest back to the Element 

Yet, though one only expandeth its germ, that one 
only peoples 

Living Creation with forms that through Eternity last. 
John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



THE ANIMATING PRINCIPLE. 

Nowhere in the organic or sensitive world ever kindles 
Novelty, save in the flow'r, noblest creation of life. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



TWO WAYS OF WORKING. 

Go and do good, and thou help'st Humanity's heavenly 
plants grow ; [the world. 
Or create Beauty, and strew heavenly seeds through 
John S. Dwight. 

DISTINCTION OF RANKS. 

Rank exists in the moral world, also. Commoner 
natures [they are. 
Pay with that which they do; noble with that which 
John S. Dwight. 

WORTH AND WORTHINESS. 

Hast thou something ? Impart ; I'll willingly pay thee 

what's proper. 
Art thou something ? O, then souls I with thee would 

exchange. 

John S. Dwight. 



284 

£ie tttorcltfdje toff. 

$atmji bu ntdjt fdjon empfmben, bir MeiBt bodj, set* 

nunftig ^u ttotfeu, 
Uub aU ein ©etjt gu t^un, n?a$ bu al$ Sftenfcfy 

uidjt sermagjh 

SEittJjetfMtg. 

2lu$ ber fdjtedjtejten $arti faun SBatjrfjeit nta^ttg 

uodj tuirlen; 
S3eibem <Sd)oueu aUetn ma$t bas (S5efa^ ben ®e$alt 



ain* 

SHjetle ntir mit, ttas bu ttetfjjt; tdj tuerb' e$ bandar 

empfcmgen* 
$ber bu gtfcjl mir btdj fel&jij bamit serfdjone mi$, 

greunb! 



£)u t»itl(l SBa^reS mtdj letjreu? 33emii$e btdj tti$t! 

9ttcfyt bte @ac^c 
SBitf tdj burdj bidj, t$ Witt b i $ burdj t»ie ©a$e nut 



§ln *** 
£)i<$ txtotyV id) S um &§ver, aunt greunb* £)etu 

lebenbtgeS SSilbert 
£e§rt mt$, beiu IdjreubeS SSort rit^ret lefcenbtg 

meiti £er^ 

Se^tge ©eneratum. 

SBar es tmmer ttie jefct? 3$ famt bag ©cf^Ie^t ntdjt 

Begreifen* 
9htr ba$ filter tjl jung, a$! unb bte^ugeub ijl alt* 



284 



THE MORAL FORCE. 



If thou feePst not the beautiful, still thou with reason 

canst will it ; [not. 

And as a spirit canst do, that which as man thou canst 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



PARTICIPATION". 

E'en by the hand of the wicked can truth be working 

with vigor ; 
But the vessel is filled by what is beauteous alone. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



TO w 

Give me all that you know ; and gratefully I will re- 
ceive it. [my friend ! 
But you would give me yourself: — prithee, excuse me, 

John S. Dwight. 

TO * * 

Wouldst thou teach me the truth ? Don't take the 

trouble ! I wish not, 
Through thee, the thing to observe, — but to see thee 

through the thing. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



TO 



Thee would I choose as my teacher and friend. Thy 

living example [life. 

Teaches me, — thy teaching word wakens my heart unto 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE PRESENT GENERATION. 

"Was it always as now ? This race I truly can't fathom. 
Nothing is young but old age ; youth, alas ! only is old. 
Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



285 



2Bag t$ otjne bid) mare, i$ wetfj eg ntdjt — after mir 

granet, 
@cy td), wa« oljne bid) ipnnberf unb Saufenbe jtnb» 



$er gele^rte 9ltBetier. 

dimmer lafct ifjn beg 23aunteg grucfyt, ben er mitjfam 

ergte^et; 
3?ur ber ©efd)tnad gcniegt, was bte ©ele^rfamfett 
Pflangt. 

$fHd)t fiir Sebett. 

3ntnter firelje ^unt ®angen! unb, fannft bu felBer fetn 

©an^eg 
SBerben, atg btenenbeg ©lieb fdjltejp an ein ©an^eg 

bidj an! 

9lufga6e. 

Reiner fei gtetdj bent anbern, bodj gletd) fet jeber bent 

Jpi?c^ften! 
2Bte ba^ ju ntadjen? (£$ fet jeber sofabet in ft<$«. 



$a$ etgene ftfceal. 

Sftlen gefjort, tt?ag bu benljt; beitt etgen tjt nur, n>a3 

bu fitf)lejt 
©oil er bent (Stgenrfjum fetn, fixate ben ©ott, beu 

bu benfft 

T>a& tjt efcen bag toal^re ©eljetmnig, bag alien »or 

Slugen 
Stegt, end) etoig umgtfct, aBer son letnent gefetym 






285 



TO THE MUSE. 

"What I should be without thee, I know not — I shudder 

to think, though, [to be. 

What without thee I observe hundreds and thousands 

John S. Dwight. 

THE LEARNED PLODDER. 

Never tastes he the fruit of the tree which he toilfully 

reareth ; 
Only Taste can enjoy that which the learned ones plant. 

John S. Dwight. 

THE DUTY OF ALL. 

Ever strive for the whole ; and if no whole thou canst 

make thee, [limb ! 

Join, then, thyself to some whole, as a subservient 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



A PROBLEM. 

Let none resemble another; let each resemble the 

highest ! [itself. 

How can that happen ? let each be all complete in 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



OUR OWN IDEAL. 

All have a share in thy thought ; thy own is that 

which thou feelest. 
Wouldst thou make it thy own, feel, then, the God 

whom thou think 'st. 

John 8. Dwight. 

TO MYSTICS. 

That is the only true secret, which in the presence of 

all men [by none. 

Lies, and surrounds thee for aye, but which is witnessed 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 
43 



286 



$er ^djluffel. 

SBitCfl bu bt$ feIT6er erfennen, fo ftetj, tine Me anbern 

eg treifcen* 
SBiKfi bu bte anbern serjWjn, Mtcf in bein etgeneg 



Xtt Sluf4ittfTer. 

<5tren$e, tt>te ntein ©ennjfen, fcemerfjt bu, too ify %i* 

fe*)leh 
©arum §aV i<$ bid) fiet^, fete — metn ©ennffen, 

gelieot* 



SBetSIjett unti iHugljett. 

SSitfjl bu, $reunb, bie ertyafcenjkn §tyn ber SSet^^ett 

erfliegett, 
SBag 1 eg auf bte (Sefa^r, bajj bt$ bie $Iugtyeit »er* 

tarf)t 
£)ie ^ur3ftd)ttge ftetjt nur bag ttfer, bag bit ^urucJflte^t, 
3eneg nid)t, too beretnjt lanbet bein mutter glug* 



$te tteBeremfHmtmmg. 

SBa^rfjett fucfyen mir 23etbe, bu aufjen im Men, f$ 

innen 
3n bem iper^en, nnb fo ftnbet jte ieber getuif ♦ 
3ft bag 5luge gefunb, fo Begegnet eg aufjen bem 

(Stopfer; 
3jt eg ia^ £er3, bann gctt>tf frtegelt eg innen bte 

Belt 



286 

THE KEY. 

Wouldst with thyself be acquainted, then see what 

the others are doing. 
But wouldst thou understand others, look into thy 

heart. 

John S. Dwight. 

THE OBSERVER. 

Stern as my conscience, thou seest the points wherein 

I'm deficient ; 
Therefore I've always loved thee, as my own conscience 

I've loved. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



WISDOM AND PRUDENCE. 

Wilt thou, my friend, aspire to the loftiest summit of 
Wisdom ? 

Be not daunted, although Prudence may laugh at thee 
for 't. 

She, short-sighted, hut sees the bank that's flying be- 
hind thee, 

Not the one where at last landeth thy resolute flight. 

John S. Dwight. 



AGREEMENT. 

Truth we both of us seek ; you out in the world — I 

within me, 
In my own heart — so we must both of us find it at last. 
Is the eye sound, then without 'twill always meet the 

Creator ; 
Is it the heart, then the world's certainly mirrored 

within, 

John 8. Dwight. 



287 



spalittfilje Seljre. 

SHIeS fet redjt, toad bu t^uft; bodj baBei Tag eg Be* 

rceubeu, 
greunb, unb enttjalte btdj |a, atleg, toad redjt ijt, 

3U fyun* 
SBaljrem (Stfer genitgt, bag bag 23orljanbne fcoll* 

lommen 
(Set j ber falfdje toitt jietg, bag bag $oulommene fet* 



SKajefittS Jiofmlt. 

Sftajeftat ber Sffteufdjennatur! bid) foil idj Beim Jpaufen 
©udjen? 23ei SBemgen nur §aft bu tton jefyer ge* 

toofjnt, 

(Singetnc SBenige ^len, bie itBrigen 2lffe ftnb BItnbe 
S^ieten; tfjr leered ©etoitljl §itttet bie £reffer nur eitt* 



5ln emeu SBeltnerBefferer. 

„2nie3 opfert' id) Jin/' ftn# bu, „ber 9flenfd$eit an 

J elf en ; 
Sitel toax ber (Srfolg, £afi unb 23erfotgung ber 

Sojn." — 
(Soli i<$ bir fagen, greunb, ftue id) mit Sflenfdjen eg 

Jalte? 
£raue bent (Spruce! *ftodj nie Jat mid) ber git§rer 

getaufdjt* 
$on ber 9Jlenf<$Jeit — bu lauuft sou tfjr me grog 

genua, benfen; 
SBie bu im Sufen fte tragfi, pragft t>u in SEJaten 

fie and. 
%\x&) bent Sftenfdjen, ber btr im engen SeBen Begegnet, 
Sfteic^ ijm, tomn er fte mag, freunblid) bie fjelfenbe 

£anb» 



287 



POLITICAL MAXIM. 

All should be right that thou doest ; that, friend, is 
a sound proposition ; 

Let it content thee, nor think all that is right thou 
shouldst do. 

True zeal counts it enough to bring what is to perfec- 
tion; 

To make the perfect to be, labors the zeal that is false. 

Anonymous. 

MA JEST AS POPULI. 

Majesty of the nature of man ! In crowds shall I 

seek thee ? 
'Tis only with a few that thou hast made thine abode. 
Only a few ever count ; the rest are but blanks of no 

value, 
And the prizes are hid 'neath the vain stir that they 

make. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



TO A WORLD-REFORMER. 

" I HAVE sacrificed all," you say, "in Humanity's 
service ; 

Poor, indeed, the results ; scorn and abuse my re- 
ward." — 

Shall I inform thee, my friend, my feeling as to man- 
kind now ? 

Trust the word ! Never yet knew I the guide to mis- 
lead, [of; 

As to Humanity — that you cannot think any too much 

What in thy bosom it is, shall in thy actions appear. 

Yes — and whatever man you meet in your limited 
circle, 

If he freely invite, friendlily reach him a hand. 



288 



Sftur fur SRegen unb Xfyau unb furs SBo^T ber 9ften* 

fdjengefdjtedjter 
Sag bu ben £immet, ?£reunb, forgen, tt>ie gefiern, fo 



SWciuc 9lnttjiatljte. 

^er^ticf) ifi mtr bag Safter guttiber, unbboppeTtjutoiber 
3jl mirg, weil eg fo oiel fdjtoa^en oon £ugenb ge* 

ma$r* 
„2Bie, bu Jaffcjl bie £ugenb?" — 3$ toottte, ttrir itfc* 

ten fte atle, 
Unb fo fpradje, foitt'S ®ott, ferner fetn 2ftenf<$ me^r 

baoon* 



5ln iiic aftronottien. 

©djwajjel: mtr ni<$t fo oiel son SMetflecfen unb 

@onnen; 

3(1 bte 9ktur nur grofj , wet! jte ^u ^afylen eu$ gt6t? 
(£uer ©egenftanb ift ber etfjaBenfte freiltdj im Sftaunte; 

Sloer, greunbe, im diaum »o$nt bag Sr^aoeue nidjt- 



Slfittmomifdje ©djnftett. 

©o unetmefjHd) if!, fo unenblidj er^aoen ber £immel! 
2Ioer ber JUeinigfeitsgeifi gog audj ben Jpimmel JeraK 



$er kfie @taat. 

„2$oran erfenn 1 id) ben Beften <&taaW — SBoran bu 

bie fcejte 
grau fennft — baran, mein ^reunb, bag man oon 

betben ntdjt [}md)t. 



288 

But as for rain and dew, and as for the good of the 

race, friend, 
Pray let Heaven provide now, as it ever hath done. 

John 8. Dwight. 

MY ANTIPATHY. 

Vice from my heart I abhor ; yet feel I a double ab- 
horrence, [lips. 

Doomed as I am now to hear virtue on every one's 

"How? hate virtue, say you?" — I would that we 
practiced it all, and 

So, God willing, might hear nobody talk of it more. 

John S. Dwight. 

TO THE ASTRONOMERS. 

Talk not to me so much of your stars and your nebu- 
lous systems ; 

Is, then, Nature so great, that ye may have something 
to count ? 

Vast is your subject, no doubt ; in space there's noth- 
ing sublimer ; [Space. 

But, my friends, the Sublime hath not its being in 

John S. Dwight. 

ASTRONOMICAL WRITINGS. 

Oh, how infinite, how unspeakably great, are the 

heavens ! [pulled ! 

Yet by frivolity's hand downwards the heavens are 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE BEST STATE. 

a How do I know the best state?"— Why, how do 

' you know the best woman ? 
This, my friend, is the sign : — neither is spoken about. 

John S. Dwight. 



289 



2ftem ©rauBe. 

SBelcfye Religion td) Befenne? Metric son atfeit, 
£>ie bu mir nennft — Unb tr-arum feine? $ttg 

Religion* 



SnnereS rntii SleufereS. 

„©ott ttur ftefjet bag £er3*" — £)rum eBen, toeil ©ott 

nur bag £erj ftetjt, 
©orge, bap tr-ir bodj aucfy etttag (Srtraglidjeg fe$it. 



Sreuni) utti) Sfehtf>. 

fetter ijt mir ber greunb, bod) au$ ben $emb !antt 

tdj ttii^en; 
3etgt mir ber greunb, mad tdj farm, leljrt nttdj ber 

$emb, was idj fou\ 



Stc^t urtii $arBe. 

SBotjne, bu eftigTtd) Strteg, bort Bet bent efoigltdj (Strtert! 
garfce, bu ttedjfelnbe, fomm freunblidj %um Sflen* 

fcjjen §erabl 



Sdjorte ^tttJiuiimalitaf. 

(Strug foUjt bu 3»ar fetn, bodj ©irteg ni$t mit bent 

©anjeu* 
£>ur$ bie SBernunft Mft on Sing, eirtig mit tym 

burd) bag £>er^ 
(Sttmme beg ©anjen ijt beine SBerourtfr, bein ^erg Bijl 

bu feloer 
2Bo$l bir, menu bie 23errtunft immer im £er3en bir 

mojnt 



(SdjtGerS ffimmtl. 2Ber!c I. 19 



289 

MY FAITH. 

Which religion do I acknowledge ? None that thou 
namest. 

" None that I name ? And why so ?"— Why, for re- 
ligion's own sake ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



INSIDE AND OUTSIDE. 

" God alone sees the heart " — and therefore, since he 

alone sees it, [may see. 

Be it our care that we, too, something that's worthy 

Edgar A If red Bowring. 



FRIEND AND FOE. 

Dear to me is a friend ; but a foe, too, often is useful : 
Shows me the friend, what I can; shows me the foe, 
what I should. 

John S. Dwight. 

LIGHT AND COLOR. 

Thou, who ever art one, dwell there with the One 

Everlasting ! [men! 

Color, thou changeable, come friendlily down among 

John S. Dwight. 

BEAUTEOUS INDIVIDUALITY. 

Thou in truth shouldst be one, yet not with the whole 

shouldst thou be so. 
'Tis through the reason thou'rt one, — art so with it 

through the heart. 
Yoice of the whole is thy reason, but thou thine own 

heart must be ever ; [thou. 

If in thy heart reason dwells evermore, happy art 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



290 

Sic SRanmfJjfafttgfett. 

SSiele ffnb out unb serftanbig; bocfy $aljlen fitr (Stnen 

ttur Stile, 
£)enn fte regiert ber 23egriff, ad^! nidjt bag IteBenfcc 

Srauria, fyxxffit ber 33egrtff, aug taufenbfadj roe^feln* 

ben gormen 
23rhtget er bitrftia, unb leer ettig nur eine (jerttor; 
2lkr son Men raufdjt eg unb Suft, wo Mlbenb bie 

©cfyonfyeit 
£errf$et; bag ewige (Sig wanbelt fte taufenbfa$ neu» 



Ste iirci Sifter iscr fJlatnv, 

Men gaB i^r bie gafeet, bie @eele fyat fte entfeelet, 
(Scfyaffenbeg Se^en aufg neu gtot bie SSernunft i$r 

gurittf* 



Ser ©entu$. 

SBteber^olen $tt>ar !ann ber SSerftanb, wag ba f$on 

gemefen ; 
SBag bie 9tatur gefcaut, hand er n>al)lenb ityr na$* 
Uefcer Sfatur l)tnaug fcaut bie SBernunft, bo$ nur in 

Seere* 
SDu nur ©eniug, ntetjrft in ber Sftatur bie Statur* 



Set JRadjaljmcr. 

®uteg aug ©utem, bag !ann jebweber 23erflanbtge 

Mtben ; 

Sifter ber ©eniug ruft ©uteg au^ ©djtedjtem l^er&or* 
5ln ©eBUbetem nur barfft bu, Sfta^atjmer, bid) itbett; 

©eloft ©eMlbeteg ift ©toff nur bem Mlbenben ©eift. 



290 

VARIETY. 

Many are good Men and able, though All for One 

only reckon, 
Since they are ruled by the head, not by the warm 

loving heart. [ble forms, it 

Tristfully governs the head. Of a thousand changea- 
Brings out, empty and poor, only a single to view. 
Life and Pleasure resound, where Beauty creatively 

governs. 
She — the eternal One — numberless changes abides. 
John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



THE THREE AGES OF NATURE. 

Life she received at first from Fable ; the School has 

un-souled her ; 
Life and creation anew Eeason is giving her back. 

John S. Dwight. 

GENIUS. 

Understanding, indeed, can repeat what is given al- 
ready ; , 

That which Nature has built, builds he by choice after 
her. [only. 

Beason builds out beyond Nature, but into vacuity 

Only thou, Genius, canst Nature in Nature create. 

John S. Dwight. 

THE IMITATOR. 

Good from the good, — to the reason this is not hard 

of conception ; 
But the genius has pow'r good from the bad to evoke. 
T Tis the conceived alone, that thou, Imitator, can'st 

practice ; [conceives. 

Food the conceived never is, save to the mind that 
Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



291 



©cntalttot. 

SBoburd) gtot ftd) ber ©eniuS tab ? 2Bobur$ fidj bet 

(Stopfer 
$unb gtot in ber 9latur, in bent unenbltdjen 2ltf* 
Stlax ift ber 2let§er unb bod) oon unermefjlidjer Xtefe; 
Often bent Slug, bent 2Serftanb okibt er bo$ etoig 

qekinu 



£ie $orfifjer. 

2HIe3 null jejjt ben Sftenfdjen oon innen, tton aufjen 

ergriinben ; 
2Ba$r$eit, too retteji bu bid) ^in oor ber ttiitf)enben 

3agb? 
£>i$ s u f<»t9Crt, gie^en fte au3 tnit 9te£en unb <5rangen; 
2l6er mit ©etfteStritt fdjretteft bu mitten ^inbur$. 



Sic fdjtoere Ser&mimng. 

SBarunt toitt ftdj ©efdjmac! unb ©ente fo fetten &er* 

etnen? 
^ener fitr^tet bie Stvaft, btefes X)erac^tet ben 3^m* 



©ortectljeti. 

^ret son £abet ju fein, ift ber niebrigfte ©rab unb ber 

*)oc$jte; 
£)enn nur bie Dfjnmadjt fittn't ober t)it ©rope baju* 



2>a§ ftaiurgefefc. 

<&o ioar'g tmnter, mnn greunb, unb fo totrb'S Meifcen: 

bie Ofjnmadjt 
£at bie 2tegel fur fldj, after bie tfraft ben grfolg. 



291 

GENIALITY. 

Whereby doth Genius make itself known ? whereby 

the Creator 
Makes Himself known — in His works — known in the 

Infinite All. [fathom. 

Clear is the ^Ether, and yet of a depth no mortal can 
Open it lies to the sight — ever concealed to the sense. 
John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.8.A. 



THE INQUIRERS. 

Man, nowadays, from within and without must in- 
vestigate all things. [dening chase ? 

Truth ! whither canst thou escape, safe from the mad- 

Thee to make captive, with nets and with poles forth 
sally the hunters, [glid'st away. 

But thro' the midst of the throng thou like a ghost 
John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.8.A. 



THE. DIFFICULT UNION. 

Why are taste and genius so seldom met with united ? 
Taste of strength is afraid, — genius despises the rein. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



CORRECTNESS. 

That thou art free from reproach is the lowest of 
praise and the highest. [same. 

Weakness and greatness of soul equally lead to the 
John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



THE LAW OF NATURE. 

It has ever been so, my friend, and will ever remain 

so : [success. 

Weakness has rules for itself, — vigor is crowned with 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



292 

$annfl bn nidjt alien gefallen bar$ betttc £§at nnb 

betn ^unflwerf, 
Stta^' e0 Roentgen redjt; SOieXen gefallen, ijl f^Itmnn 



Zonlunfi. 

Men at^me tie Mlbenbe ilnnfr, ©eijt forbr' i$ »om 

£)i$ter; 
5tber tie (Seele fjnidjt nnr ^ot^mnta an$» 



©Jiradje. 

SSarum fann t>er lefcenbige ©eift bent ®eijl ni$t er* 

fdjetnen? 
©prt$t bie@eete, fo fprtd^t, a$! fd^on bie <&eele 

nidjt me^r* 



$n iJen $idjter. 

Sag bie <Spra$ebtr fein, was ber ^or^er ben SteBenbem 

(£r nnr 
3(1^/ ber bie 23efen trennt, nnb ber bte SBefen ttereint 



2>er OWeifier. 
3eben anberen 9JM(ter erlennt man an bent, n>a$ er 

an3f)mc()t; 
333a3 er ttetfe serfdjtoeigt, jeigt mtr ben Sftetfier bed 

£er ©uriel. 

3n bent ©iirtel fcet»a$rt 2lp^robtteber Sftet^e (Metmnifj : 
2Ba$ i^r ben 3<*nber »erlei$r, tft, n>as fie Mnbet, bie 

©djann 



292 

cnoicE. 
If thou canst not give pleasure to all by thy deeds 

and thy knowledge, 
Give it, then, unto the few ; many to please is but vain. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



SCIENCE OF MUSIC. 

Let plastic Art breathe Life. I Spirit demand of the 

poet. 
But Polyhymnia alone utters, expressive, the Soul. 
John Herman M&rivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



LANGUAGE. 

Why can the living spirit be never seen by the spirit ? 
Soon as the" soul 'gins to speak, then can the soul 
speak no more ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



TO THE POET. 

Let thy speech be to thee what the body is to the 

loving ; 
Beings it only can part, — beings it only can join. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE MASTER. 

Every other master is known by what he expresses ; 
What he wisely conceals, shows me the master of Style. 

John 8. Dwight. 

THE GIRDLE. 

Venus owes to the girdle the magical charm of her 

beauty ; 
What bestows the enchantment, is, what she binds 

with— reserve. 

John S. Dwight. 



293 



Silcttcnt. 



SBetl em 33er3 Mr geltngt in etner geMIbeten @pradje r 
£)ie fur bid? bidjtet unb benft, glaufcft bu fdjon 

Did) ter ju fein? 



$ie £utif}fdjto(i$er. 

($utt$ in ^itnften serlangt i§r! @eib i$r bentt ttmrbla, 

beg ®uten, 
2Da3 nur ber enuge jtrteg gegen eu^ felfcer er$eugt? 



SBetdje n>o$I Heiftt con alien ben ^tlofopfjieen? 3$ 

tt>ei§ ntdjt. 
Per bie $§ilofop§te, $ofP t<$, foil enug fcefte^m 



®te ©unjl feer $lufen. 

SJMt bent $P$ttifier ftirftt aufy fein Sfatijm* 5Du, $imm* 

Itf$e 9^n[e, 
£ragft, bie bidj Ite$en,biebufte£ft, in 2ftnemof9nen$ 

©d)oo£. 



®er §omeru0fD^jf als Stegel. 

£reuer alter Corner, bir sertrau' ify bas gartc ©e* 

$eunntfj ; 
Urn ber SieBenben ©Hid ttuffe ber ©anger atlem* 



pic Belie JfaafeDerfalJimg. 

S)iefe nnr !ann id) bafur erfennen, bie jebem erTeidjteri 
©ut sn benfen, bodj nie, bap er fo benfe, fcebarf* 



293 

THE DILETTANTE. 

Since one verse thou hast made in a rich and copious 

tongue, which [art a bard ? 

Speaks and thinks for thee both, thinkest thou thou 

John 8. Dwight. 

THE BABBLER OF ART. 

Dost thou desire the good in Art ? Of the good art 

thou worthy, [produced ? 

Which by a ne'er ceasing war 'gainst thee thyself is 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE PHILOSOPHIES. 

Of all the philosophies, which stands firmest ? — I 

know not ; 
But philosophy's self, I trust, shall ever endure. 

N. L. Frothingham. 



THE FAYOR OF THE MUSES. 

Fame with the vulgar expires ; but, muse immortal, 

thou bearest [mosyne's arms. 

Those whom thou lov'st, who love thee, into Mne- 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



HOMER'S HEAD AS A SEAL. 

Thou true old Homer ! I confide my tender secret to 
thy care. [lovers share. 

None but the bard is fit to know the happiness that 
John Herman Merivale, Esq., F. 8. A. 



THE BEST STATE-CONSTITUTION. 
The best form is that which favors the mind's true 
goodness, [form. 

But so that the mind is not bound by the yoke of the 
Charles J. Hempel, M. D. 

44 



294 



^vti bie <&cfcf$tfox. 

©e£et immet ooraug, ba§ ber Sftenfdj im ©cmgen bag 

SCittj im Sinjelnen nur rennet mir niemalg barauf. 



pas ^(jrnmrbtge. 
©Jret itjr immer bag ©ange; id) famt nur (Sin^elne 

acfyteu* 
3mmer in Singel-nett nnr fjao' idj bag ©anjeeroltctt 



gjaffdjer Jfnbirfrtefi. 

D, fete Diet neuc geinbe tier SBafyrfyeit! SJZir 6Tutet bic 

@ee(e, 
€>e§' i$ t»a^ @utengefd)ledjt, bag ju bem Stdjte ftdj 

brangt. 

Quelle ber ^eriHttgung. 

©lauDt mir, eg ift feist Sittafyrcfyen, bie Quelle ber 3ugenb, 

fie rinuet 
SDtrlttdj unb immer* 3^r fragt too? 3n ber btdj= 

tenben Stunfi. 

per 'glaturftrcfo. 

SHIeg, bu SRu^tge, fd)lie£t fidj in beinem Sfteidje: fo 

ferret 
2htd) 3um ^inbe ber ©reig finbifdj unb ftnbltdj 

$uriict\ 

per g>enm<? tnif ber itmgeilefjrfett gtadief. 

Sieblidj ftetyt er gtoar aug mit feiner ertofdjenen gacW; 
2loer, iijr £erren, ber Sob ift fo aftfyetifdj bo$ nicfyt 



294 

TO LAWGIVERS. 
Ever take it for granted, that man collectively wishes 
That which is right ; but take care, never to think so 

of one ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE VENERABLE. 
Honor, the whole, if you please, but let me request 
single greatness ; [love it. 

The whole is reflected by one, in this one I see it and 
Charles J. Hempel, M. D. 



FALSE IMPULSE TO STUDY. 

Oh, how many new foes against truth ! My very soul 

bleedeth [light. 

When I behold the owl-race now bursting forth to the 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE FOUNTAIN OF SECOND YOUTH. 
Trust me, 'tis not a mere tale, — the fountain of youth 

really runneth, 
Runneth forever. Thou ask'st, Where ? In the poet's 
sweet art ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE CIRCLE OF NATURE. 

All, thou gentle one, lies embraced in thy kingdom ; 

the greybeard [returns. 

Back to the days of his youth, childish and childlike 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE DEATH-GENIUS. 
Lovely indeed he looks, with his torch reversed and 

extinguished ; 
But, my masters, death's not so aesthetic as that. 

John S. Bwight. 



295 



Sugenben Braudjet ber 9ft amt, er ftiirgt fl<$ ftagenb 

in3 Men, 
SLritt nut bem ftarferen ©fticf in ben bebenflic^en 

(Einc Sugenb genitget bem 2Betb; fie ijl ba, jte er* 

fd^einet 

£ieHi$ bem £er$en, bem Slug liefctidj erf^eme fie 

jfctsl 

pie fdjonfie ^rfdjeuumg. 

(Safjefl bu niebie ©djon^etttm Shtgen&litfe beS SeibenS, 
Sftiemalg ^aft bu bte <3d)on§eit gefefyn. 

©afjjl bu bte greube nte in einem fd^onen ©eftcfyte, 
Sftiemate §ajl bu bie 5reube gefe^n. 



Jorum 5es 'gSeifies. 

^tauen, rt^tet mir nte be3 Cannes etngelne ST^aten; 
2lber it&er beu 9ftann (preset bas rid^tenbe SQoxtl 



'gSeififidje* ^eif. 

banner rtdjten nacfy ©rihtben; beg 23et6eg Urtfjett ijl 

feme 
£te£e:- tto eg ntd)t ttebt, fjat fdjon gertdjtet bag SBeifc* 



5as UJeififidje §5eaf. 

Sin Slmanba. 
UeBeratf toetdjet bag 2Beib bem Sftanne; nur in bem 

£6$ften 
IGki^et bem tteifttidjfien SBetB immer ber mannli^jle 

Sftamu 



295 

THE VIKTUE OF "WOMAN. 
Maist many virtues must call to his aid on life's daring 

adventure ; 

Going with bolder success forth on the dubious strife. 

One only Virtue doth Woman suffice. It is in her — 

it shineth [the eye. 

Sweet to the Heart. Let it shine evermore sweet to 

John Herman Merivale, Esq. , F. 8. A. 



THE FAIREST APPARITION. 

Say, didst thou never Beauty behold in the moment 
of anguish ? 
Ne'er didst thou Beauty behold. 
Say, hast thou never beheld Joy beam from a beauti- 
ful visage ? 
Joy thou hast never beheld. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.8.A. 



FORUM OF WOMAN. 
Womaist, presume not to judge a man's particular 
actions ! [avail. 

Judge thou only the man — there shall thy sentence 

John S. Dwight. 

WOMAN'S JUDGMENT. 
Men decide by reasons ; the judgment of woman her 
love is ; [judged. 

There, where she does not love, woman already has 

______^ John S. Dwight. 

THE IDEAL OF WOMAN. 

TO AMANDA. 

Woman in all things to Man must yield ; save alone 

in the Highest. [fair. 

There must the bravest of Men yield to the tenderest 



296 

SBctS bag #8dj|te mtr fei? £)e3 (Sieged rufjtge $Iartjettf 

2Bie ftc t)Oti beiner ©tint, f)otbe SImanba, mtr jtratylt 

©djnnmmt aufy bie £Bolfe bes ©rams urn bie fetter 

gla'rtjenbe ©djeibe, 
(Sooner nur ma$t ftdj bas 33ilb auf bent ttergolbe* 

ten £)uft 
£)unfe ber 9ftann (t$ fret! £)u b i ft eg; benn enrig 

not^tr-enbig 
SSkifjt bu son feiner 2Ba$t, feiner Sfottyttenbigfeit 

meljr* 
2Bas bu auc^ gi&(r, (lets giBft bu btdj gan^; bu Mjt 

etmg nur (Sines, 
2lu$ bein jarrejter Saut ifi bein ^armontf^e^ @eIB(t, 
$ier ift erotge Sugenb fcei mentals tterfiegenber SitEe, 
Unb mit ber 23fume 3ugleidj Brtcfyft bu bie golbene 

grudjt 



Jrwarfung unb JrlMimg. 

3n ben Ocean fcfyifft mit taufenb 9ttaften ber 3ungltng ; 
©till, auf gerettetem 23oot, tretbt in ben £afen ber 

©rete. 



$a$ geiKeittfcune Jdjidifaf. 

(Stetye, n?tr ^affen, ttir ftreiten, eg trennet uns rftetgung 

unb SJMnung; 
3lkr e3 Meidjet inbefj bir ftd) bie Socfe, tvie mtr* 



'g&enfdjfidje* ^irfien. 

$n bem (Singang berS3a^n HegtbieUnenbltdjfeitoffen, 
£)od) mit bem engeften &xd$ pret ber SBeifefte auf* 



296 

What is the Highest, thou bidst me declare ? — the 
mild lustre of conquest, 

As from thy brow on my Soul, lovely Amanda, it 
beams. 

So, though around the sun's bright orb float the vapors 
of sorrow, 

Only the fairer his form gilds with vermilion the sky. 

Man may esteem himself free — Thou art — from eter- 
nity fated, 

Never to know of choice, or of necessity, more. 

Whatso thou givest, Thyself thou giv'st all. Thou 
ever but one art. 

Even thy tenderest note is thine harmonious Self. 

Here is eternal Youth, with Abundance ever exhaust- 
less — 

And with the blossom at once pluck'st thou the golden 
fruit. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq. , F. S. A. 



ANTICIPATION AND EEALITY. 

Youth, with thousand-masted vessel, ploughs the sea 

at morning light ; [at night. 

Age, in shattered skiff escaping, calmly drifts to port 

Charles T. Brooks. 



THE COMMON FATE. 

See, we are hoping, contending, divided in will and 

opinion ; [mine. 

But thy hairs the meanwhile gray are becoming, like 

John S. Dwight. 

HUMAN ACTION. 
"Where the pathway begins, eternity seems to he open, 
Yet at the narrowest point even the wisest man stops. 
Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



297 



SBirfe, fo &tel bu toiUft, bn fte^efl bo$ etoia, atfefn ba* 
23i$ an t>a$ 2111 bie Sftatnr bidj, bie getoaltige, fniip ft. 



Jitefie unb 'gSegierbe. 

SFtec^t cjefagt, ©c^Ioffer! Wlan liebt, toa$ man $at, 
"man begefyrt toad man nidjt §at\ 
£)enn nur ba£ reicfye ©emittfj ttebt, nnr ba$ arme 

Begirt* 



9te tfcti Sugenben gibt'S. D, toaren fie immer oer* 

etnigt, 
3mmer bie ©iite and) grog, immer bie ®ro£ e and) 

0«t 



3mmer treibe bie $nrd)t ben ©flaoen mit etfernem 

@rabe ; 
grenbe, fittyre in midj immer an rojtgtem 33anb! 



'gtatttrforfdjer 

unb 
SrattfcenJientaI#5irofo^5en. 

geinbfdjaft fei gtoifdjen tu§ ! 9?odj fommt bag S3iinb* 

nig gn fru^e : 
SBenn i§r im <Snd)en tu§ trennt, nurb erf* bie 

$Qal)vi)tit erlannt 



297 

THE FATHER. 

Achieve as much as thou pleasest, thou art alone, 

evermore, 
Till nature's omnipotent voice with the whole unites 

thee in death. 

Charles J. Hempel, M. _D. 



LOYE AND DESIRE. 
Rightly said, Schlosser ! One loves what he has ; 

one desires what he has not ; 
Only the rich soul loves ; only the poor one desires. 

John S. Dwight. 

GOODNESS AND GREATNESS. 
Only two virtues are there : O, were they always 

united, 
And goodness always were great, always greatness 

were good ! 

JSF. L. Frothingham. 



THE IMPULSES. 

Fear with his iron staff may urge the slave onward 

forever ; 
Rapture, do thou lead me on ever in roseate chains ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



NATURALISTS AND TRANSCENDENTAL 
PHILOSOPHERS. 

Enmity be between you ! As yet is the union too 

early ; 
If you divide in your search, Truth will the sooner be 

found. 

John 8. Dwight. 



298 



Jeitffdjer Remits. 

Swinge, ©eutfdjer, nad) romtfdjer $raft, nadj grtetfjtfdjer 

(Scfyonfyeit! 
23eibe3 gelang bir; bodj nie glittfte ber gaftifdje 

(Sprung. 



$IeiiugReifett. 



$er epifrfje #cramter. 

©djnnnbeTnb tragi er bidj fort auf rajtfo$ jtromenben 

$3ogen, 
Winter bir ftetyft tu, bu ftel)ft ttor bir nur £immef 

unb SJleer* 

2>a§ ^tfttdjon. 

3w ^eramter fteigt be3 (Springquette flujftge ©ante, 
3nt pentameter brauf fa At fie melobifdj §era&* 

Ste a^tactlige Stance. 

(Stance, bidj fdjuf bie Siebe, bie gartlidj fcfymadjtenbe — 

bretmal 
gfte^eji bit fdjamfjaft unb fetjrft breimal fcerlangenb 

gurittf* 

£er OBeltSl. 

SJufgericfjtet §at tnidj auf §of)em ©eftetle ber SSftetfter* 
<5te§e, fprad) er, unb id> ftet) 1 iljm mit $raft unb mit 

8ufL 
£>er ^rtitm|!Pogen. 
gurc^te nidjt, fagte ber SMfter, beg ipimmeU S3ogen; 

i<$ (telle 
2)t$ unenbltd), nue i^n, in bie Unenblidjfeit -$ttu 



298 

GERMAN GENIUS. 
Strive after Roman power, and after Hellenian 
beauty ; [leap. 

Both thou hast reached, but thou missest the Gallican 
Charles J. Hempel, M.B. 



TRIFLES. 



THE EPIC HEXAMETER.* 

Strongly it bears us along in swelling and limitless 

billows, [the ocean. 

Nothing before and nothing behind but the sky and 

Coleridge. 

THE DISTICH. 

In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column, 
In the pentameter aye falling in melody back. 

Coleridge. 

THE EIGHT LINE STANZA. 

Stanza, by love thou'rt created, — by love all-tender 

and yearning ; [return. 

Thrice dost thou bashfully fly ; thrice dost with longing 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 

THE OBELISK. 

On a pedestal lofty the sculptor in triumph has raised 

me. [joyfully here. 

"Stand thou," spake he, — and I stand proudly and 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 

THE TRIUMPHAL ARCH. 

"Fear not," the builder exclaimed, "the rainbow 

that stands in the heavens ; 
I will extend thee, like it, into infinity far !" 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 

* See note r. 



299 



£te fdjSne 95tusfe. 
ttnter ntir, xiBer ntir rennen bie SBeflert, tie SBagen, 

nnb giitig 
©flnnte ber SD^etfter mir felftfr, au<^ nit t)iniiber git 

ge£)n, 

$a§ Sfjar. 

©djmetdjelnb tocfe bag SHjor ben SOBttben herein gum 

©e(ej3e; 
grotj in bie freie 9latux fii^r 1 eg ben Siirger tyerang! 

$ie ^etergfirdje. 

©ndjft bn bag Unerme§(id)c $ier, bn $a|t btdj geirret ; 
Sfteme ©rojje ift bie, grower gu mac^en bid) felbft 



Jcirffdjfanb lttib fcitie JMrJIett. 

©rofje Sftonardjen ergeugteft bn, nnb fcijt if)rer nmrbtg, 
2)en ©ebietenben tnatfyt nnr ber ©e^or^enbe gro£ t 
W>tx tterfndj 1 eg, o £)entfdjlanb, nnb mad) 1 eg beinen 

23el)errfdjern 
@d)tr>erer, alg ^onige grof, leister, nnr Sftenfc^en 

an feiit. 

cftn bte ^ro rcft?f entrtad? cr. 

9htr etn SBenigeg @rbe Bebing' tdj ntir anger ber Srbe, 
(Spradj ber gortlidje 'Mann, nnb id) Betrege jte Ietd)t 

(Sinen 5tugenBlicf nnr sergonnt ntir, anfjer ntir felber 
yjlify gn kgeben, nnb fdjnetf voiU i§ ber Snrige fetn* 



Jte ^erflmbungsmtM. 

*ie tterfctfyrt bte 9?atnr, nm £otjeg nnb Sfttebreg itn 

SDfonfdjett 
Qn serftinben? @te petit SiteWcit amif^en $inehu 



299 

THE BEAUTIFUL BRIDGE. 

Under me, over me, hurry the billows, the wagons ; 

and kindly 
Grants the master to me, too, to run over with them. 

John S. Dwight. 

THE GATE. [cepts ; 

Let the gate open stand, to allure the savage to pre- 
Let it the citizen lead into free nature with joy. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 

ST. PETER'S CHURCH. 

Seek'st thou here the Immense and Unmeasured, 

thou certainly errest : 
Only in this am I great, making thee greater thyself. 

John S. Dwight. 

GERMANY AND HER PRINCES. 
Great monarchs thou hast brought forth, of whom 

thou art worthy ; 
He who commands is made great by him who obeys. 
Let thy rulers, Germany, feel that royal greatness is 

easy, 
That to be men among men, is a most difficult task. 
Charles J. Hempel, M.D. 

TO PROSELYTISERS. 
'.' Give me only a fragment of earth beyond the earth's 

limits," — 
So the godlike man said, — "and I will move it with 
ease." [ment, 

Only give me permission to leave myself for one mo- 
And without any delay I will engage to be yours. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 

THE CONNECTING MEDIUM. 
How does nature proceed to unite the high and the lowly 
In mankind ? She commands vanity 'tween them to 

stand I Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



300 



per leifpunRi 

Sine gre$e Sfcocfre hat bag 3af)r$unbert geftoren; 
Witt ber grope foment ftnbet ein f(eineg ©efcfyledjt. 



penffdje* Jluflfptef. 

SUjoren fatten fair tt?o§(, nur fatten ^ra^eu bie 9ftenge; 
Seiner tyeifen [te nur felbft jur ^omobte ni$t$. 



'gSitdjijaubfer-^tt^tgc. 

9ftdjt3 ijl ber 3Renfd$eU fo nudjtig, als ifjre 33ejHm* 

mung gu fennen: 
Um ^ttolf ©rofdjen Sourant fctrb (te Bet mir jejjt 

serfauft. 

g>efa|jrfidje 'gladjfofge. 

greunbe, ftebenfet eud) n>ofy[,bie tiefere, fiifjnereSBafjr^eit 
Saut gu fagen: fogletd) ftedt man ftc eud) auf ben 

g>iiedjljeif. 

$aum $at ba$ laltc giefter ber ©atTomante ung s>er* 

laflen, 
SBric&t in ber ©rafemanie gar nodj ein I)tj3igeg au$. 
©ried^eit, n>ag war fie? SSerjianb unb 9fta§ unb $Iar* 

Ijeit! Drum ba$t' idj, 
(Stttag ©ebutb nodj, i§r iperrrt, e^ tljr oon ©ried)* 
(jeit ung fpred)t! 
Sine niirbige (Sac^e »erfed)tet i|r; nur mit SSerftanbe, 
©itt 1 id), baf fie gum Spott unb gum ©eladjter 
nicfyt nurb. 



300 

THE PERIOD OF TIME. 

An epoch of greatness has come from the womb of 
this age, [tion. 

But this offspring is greeted, alas ! by a small genera- 
. Charles J. Hempel, M.D. 



GERMAN COMEDY. 
We've plenty of fools, and plenty of clownish grim- 
aces ; [so far ! 
But useless in comedy ev'n, alas ! we have found them 
Charles J. Henvpel, 31. D. 



PUBLISHER'S NOTICE. 
A knowledge of destiny is, to every man, of im- 
portance, 
Just now I keep it for sale : price, two dimes a copy. 
Charles J. Hemjjel, M.D. 



DANGEROUS CONSEQUENCE. 

Be slow to reveal thy heart's deepest and boldest 

opinion ; 
Lest it rudely be turned upside down by the crowd. 
Charles J. Hem/pel, M.D. 



GRuECOMANIA. 

Scarce has the cold ague-fit of Gallic frivolity left us, 
When into feverish heat bursts our Greek madness 

away. 
Greekdom ! — what was she ? — Sense, and Measure, 

and Brightness — I therefore [us prate. 

Crave, sirs, your patience awhile, ere you of Greek to 
Noble and lofty your theme — may you only have wit 

to maintain it, [scorn. 

Lest it become in your mouths matter of laughter and 
John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



301 



pie $<mufag<?futt&er. 

3afjre Tang Bilbet ber Sfteifter unb fann ft$ ttimmer 

genug ttyun; 
2)em gemalen ©ef$led)t nnrb eg im Zxaumt U* 

fc^ert 
2Ba^ fte geftern gelernt, bag ftoflen fte fjeute fdjon 

le^ren ; 
5ld), tt>ag l^aBen bie Jperrn bod) fitr ein htr^eg ($5e* 

barm! 



pie ^fjifofopljeit. 

8 1 $ rT t it &♦ 

©ut, bag id) eud), ifyr iperrn, in pleno Betfanttttett 

fyter ftnbe; 
£)enn bag Sine, tuag notfj, treiot midj tyerunter ju 

eud). 
Slriftoteteg. 
($letdj ^ur @ad)e ; mein greunb! 2Bir fatten bie 3** 

naer 3 e ttung 
£ter in ber £olle unb ftnb langft fd)on son atlem 

Me^rt. 
Settling* 
©e(to Beffer! fo geBt mir, ic^ get)' eudj ni$t efjer fcom 

£alfe, 

Gmten allgiilttgen @a£, unb ber audj atfgemein gilt, 

Srfter. 

Cogito, ergo sum. 3$ benfe, unb mttf)tn fo Bin id) 

3ft bag Sine nnr toaljr, ift eg bag Slnbre genrifi. 

Se^rting. 

2)enf id), fo bin idj. SSol)!! 2)oc^ toer tuirb imme* 

audj benfen* 



301 

THE SUNDAY CHILDREN. 
Year after year the Master plods on, and is never the 

nearer, 
"Whilst to the genial race oft 'tis in visions made 

known. 
"What they but yesterday learned, to-day they would 
teach to the hearer — [own ! 

Ah ! what easy digestions tl^pse excellent people must 
John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



THE PHILOSOPHERS. 
pupil. 
I AM rejoiced, worthy sirs, to find you in pleno assem- 
bled ; 
For I have come down below, seeking the one needful 
thing. 

ARISTOTLE. 

Quick to the point, my good friend ! Eor the Jena 

Gazette comes to hand here, 
Even in hell, — so we know all that is passing above. 

PUPIL. 

So much the better ! So give me (I will not depart 

hence without it) 
Some good principle now, — one that will always avail ! 

FIRST PHILOSOPHER. 

CogitOy ergo sum. I have thought, and therefore ex- 
istence ! 
If the first be but true, then is the second one sure. 

PUPIL. 

As I think, I exist. 'Tis good ! But who always is 
thinking ? 
45 



302 

SDft f$on toax i$, nnb tyafc' wfrffidj an gar ni$t$ 

gebadjt 

3 weiter* 
SBeil eg £)tnge bodj gi&t, fo gtot eg em Ding atfer 

£)inge; 
3n tent £>ing after £)tng fdjmimmen nnr, tote wir 

fo jink 

©titter* 

Sujl bag ©egentfjetf fpred)' !<$♦ (£g giot fein Ding 

aU tntdj felBer; 
Sltfeg 2lnbre, in mir jletgt eg aU 23tafe nnr anf* 

25 i e r t e r. 

3toeterIei Dinge laff tdj pafftren, bte 2Mt nnb bie 

(geele ; 
iteing meif oont anbew, nnb bod) benten fte oeibe 

anf Sing* 

gitnfter* 

33on bent Ding toeig id) nid)tg nnb ioetfj andj nidjtg 

tton ber ©eele; 
SSeibe erfdjetnen ntir nnr, akr fte ftnb bo$ fein 

©djetn* 
<B e dj g t e r. 

3$ Din 3$ nnb fe£e midj fetfcft, nnb fefc' t<$ midj fetoer 
2Hg ntdjt gefefct, nnn gut, §afc' id) ein ^tdjt^d) 

gefe&t, 

@ i e o e n t e r* 

-SBorjtetfrmg ttenigfteng ift! Sin 23orgejMfteg ijt alfo; 
Sin SSorftellenbeg ant^, tnadjt mit ber Sorftetlnng 

£>rei. 



302 

Oft I've existed e'en when I have been thinking of 
nought. 

SECOND PHILOSOPHER. 

Since there are things that exist, a thing of all things 

there must needs be ; 
In the thing of all things dabble we, just as we are. 

THIRD PHILOSOPHER. 

Just the reverse say I. Besides myself there is noth- 
ing; 
Everything else that there is, is but a bubble to me. 

FOURTH PHILOSOPHER. 

Two kinds of things I allow to exist, — the world and 

the spirit ; 
Nought of others I know ; even these signify one. 

FIFTH PHILOSOPHER 

I know nought of the thing, and know still less of the 

spirit ; 
Both but appear unto me ; yet no appearance they are. 

SIXTH PHILOSOPHER. 

I am I, and settle myself, — and if I then settle 
Nothing to be, well and good — there's a nonentity 
formed. 

SEVENTH PHILOSOPHER. 

There is conception at least ! A thing conceived there 

is, therefore ; 
And a conceiver as well, — which, with conception, 

make three. 



303 



Sefjrting. 
<Damit lotf t$, !§r £errn, nod) fetnen £nnb avt$ bent 

Dfen. 
©men erftedli^en @a£ tuttt id), nnb ber audj 

toas fefctl 
5tdjter* 
2Iuf tijeoretifdjem gfetb {ft toeiter nidjts metyr gu ftnben; 
SC&er ber praftifdje ©ajj gilt bod): bn faun ft benn 

Dtt fottfli 

Settling. 

Tiad)? tdj'S bodj! SOSiffen fte nidjts 25ernnnfttge3 me^r 

3U erioiebern, 
©djiefcen fte'3 einem gefdjmtnb in bag ©etotffen 

]§tneim 

£)aoib £ntne + 
Sftebe nidjt mit bem Soft! £>er $ant $at fie atfe tter* 

toirreh 
Sttldj frag 1 , tdj Mn mtr felfcfl au^ in ber £affe nodj 

gte% 
Sftedjtsfrage* 
3atjre tang fdjon bebien 1 idj mtdj ntetner 9lafe $nm 

SRiec^ett ; 
£afc' id) benn toirflidj an jie and) ein ertxjet^ltc^e^ 

^nffenborf* 

(Sin Bebenflt^er gatf! £)od) bic erfte $offeffton fdjetnt 

§iir bidj gn fpred)en, nnb fo orandje fte tmmer^in fort! 

©emiffensfcrnpeL 

©erne bien 1 idj ben grennben, bod) tyrf ify es teiber 

ntit Sftetgung, 
Unb fo tonrmt eg mir oft, baf idj nidjt inQtu^ 

^ aft ton. 



303 



PUPIL. 

All this nonsense, good sirs, won't answer my purpose 

a tittle ; 
I a real principle need,— one by which something is 

fixed. 

EIGHTH PHILOSOPHER. 

Nothing is now to be found in the theoretical province ; 
Practical principles hold, such as : thou canst, for thou 
shouldst. 

PUPIL. 

If I but thought so ! When people know no more 

sensible answer, 
Into the conscience at once plunge they with desperate 

haste. 

DAVID HUME. 

Don't converse with those fellows 1 That Kant has 

turned them all crazy ; 
Speak to me, for in hell I am the same that I was. 

LAW POINT. 

I have made use of my nose for years together to smell 

with; 
Have I a right to my nose, that can be legally proved ? 

PUFFENDORF. 

Truly a delicate point ! Yet the first possession ap- 

peareth 
In thy favor to tell ; therefore make use of it still ! 

SCRUPLE OF CONSCIENCE. 

Willingly serve I my friends ; but, alas, I do it with 

pleasure ; 
Therefore I often am vexed, that no true virtue I have. 



304 

(Sntfdjeibung* 
£>a ifi fein anberer diaty, bu muf t fudjen, fie gu oer* 

adjten, 
Unb mit SlBfdjeu alsbann t$un, nue bie $fli$t btr 

geoeut- 



3eber, fie^t man tftt ein^eln, ifi leibtidj flug unb oer* 

ftanbig; 

©inb fte in corpore, gteidj ttirb e«c^ ein Dummfopf 

barau$* 



2>i^ <ftomeri&ett. 

2Ber son eudj ifi ber ©anger ber 3tia$? SDetFa i$m 
fo gut fdjmedt, 
3fi $ier son ^e^nen ein $ad ©ottinger SBiirfie 
fiir tyn — 
„$ttr Ijer! t$ fang ber ^onige 3»t|U" — „3$ bie 
©d^la^t Bet ben (Stiffen!" — 
„9fttr bie SDitrfle! id) fang, tras auf bem 3ba ge* 
fW' — 
^riebe! $erret£t mi$ nur nidjt! Die SBitrfie toerben 
nidjt reicfyen. 
2>er fte fdjtdte, er %at jtdj nur auf ©inen oerfe^n. 



3>er morafifdje pilfer. 

3a, ber 9ftenfdj ifi ein armlidjer SBidjt, tdj tvetg — 

bod) bag motif tdj . 
Seen oergeffen unb lam, a$, toie gereut mify$, 

3U birl 



304 

DECISION. 

As there is no other means, thou hadst better begin 
to despise them ; 

And with aversion, then, do that which thy duty com- 
mands. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



G. G. 
Each one, when seen by himself, is passably wise and 

judicious ; 
"When they in corpore are, nought but a blockhead is 
seen. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE HOMEBIDES. 

To the singer of the Iliad whose appetite is of the 
keenest, 

A bundle of Gottinger sausages Heyne sends down — 

"I sang the fight of the kings !", cries one, "and I 
sang the battle 

By the ships !" cries another; — "I sang what hap- 
pened on Ida !" 

Peace ! do not tear me to pieces ; the sausages will not 
suffice ; 

They were destined for one, not for so many of you. 
• Charles J. Hempel, M.D. 



THE MOKAL POET. 

Man is in truth a poor creature, — I know it, — and 

fain would forget it ; 
Therefore (how sorry I am !) came I, alas, unto thee ! 
Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



305 

Jper erijaBene Jfoff. 

£)etne Sftufe Beftngt, mte ©ott ft<$ ber 9flenf$en er* 

fcarmte, 
Slfcr ift bag §)oefte, bag er erftarmlid) fte fanb? 



per #im|fgriff. 

28oTIt ifjr angteidj ben ^intern ber SBelt unb ben 

grommen gefatlen? • 
$Rald bie SBotlujl — nur malet ben £enfel ba^ul 



§cxemiafo. 

SlHeS in £)eutf$ranb $atfi<§ in $rofa nnb $erfen 

tterfd)Itmmert, 
21$, nnb Winter un3 tiegt tr-eit f$on bie golbene 3eit! 
spfrifofopfyen tierberkn bie Spracfye, $oeren bie £ogif, 
Unb mtt bem SDlenfcfyenserftanb fommt man burdjs 

£eben ntdjt mefyr* 
2ht3 ber 2leftt)etif, n>ctf)tn fte gef)6rt, serjagt man bie 

£ugenb, 
3agt fte, ben laftigen ®afr, in bie $olttif tyinehu 
2Bof)in ir-enben nur un3? <3mb nur natitrlid), fo 

ftnb nur 
$latt; nnb geniren nur unS, nennt man e$ aBge* 

fdjmadt gar* 
<Sd)6ne Sftatoetat ber ©tuBenmabcfyen gu £eipgig, 

$omm boc^ nueber, o fomm, nn^tge (Sinfalr, juriicf ! 
$omm, ^omobie, nueber, bn efjrfcare 2Bod)ensiftte, 
©tcgmunb, bn fitter 2lmanr, Sftascariff, fpaffjafrer 

£ne$t! 
Srauerfpiele »oU ©alj, »oK eptgrammattf^er 9?abeln, 
Unb bit, Sftenuerjtyritt unfer3 geBorgten StotyuTn$l 

©djiHerg ffimmtl. SBerfe. I. 20 



305 

THE SUBLIME SUBJECT. 
'Tis thy muse's delight to sing God's pity to mortals ; 
But, that they pitiful are, — is it a matter for song ? 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE ARTIFICE. 
Wouldst thou, at once, that the sons of the world, 

and the godly, applaud thee — 
Paint the voluptuous — paint only the Devil beside. 
John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



JEREMIADS. 

All, both in prose and in verse, in Germany fast is 

decaying ; 
Ear behind us, alas, lieth the golden age now ! 
For by philosophers spoiled is our language — our logic 

by poets, 
And no more common sense governs our passage 

through life. 
From the aesthetic, to which she belongs, now virtue 

is driven, 
And into politics forced, where she's a troublesome 

guest. 
Where are we hastening now ? If natural, dull we 

are voted, 
And if we put on constraint, then the world calls us 

absurd. 
Oh, thou joyous artlessness 'mongst the poor maidens 

of Leipzig, 
Witty simplicity come, — come, then, to glad us again ! 
Comedy, oh repeat thy weekly visits so precious, 
Sigismund, lover so sweet, — Mascarill, valet jocose ! 
Tragedy, full of salt and pungency epigrammatic,— 
And thou, minuet— step of our old buskin preserved I 



306 



^tlofop^fcfyer Socman, bu ©lietermann, ber fo ge* 

bulbtg 
(Stilt fydlt, tctnn bie Vlatux gegen ben (g^neiber 

ftd) tuefcrt. 
3tttt $rofa, fotnm mieber, tie atfcg fo e§rlic§ t)erau£fagt, 
2Sas fte benft unb gebad^t, aucfc, rcag ber Sefcr ftdj 

benft 
Utiles in £eutf$Ianb $at ftc^ in $rofa uttb SSerfett 

oerfduimmert, 
84, unb Winter uu€ liegt tteit fd)on tie golbenc3«t! 



Sincm tfl fte bie $o§e, bie §tmtnltfdje ©ottttt, bem 

intern 
Sine tit^ttge Stvif), bie i§n nut Gutter serforgt 



&CLX& unb feme ^atsfeger. 

23 ie bo A eitt einuger 9to&er }o otele Settler in 9?aorung 
©ejjtl SBenn bie ilcnige caun, fcaoen bie farmer 

gu t§Utt. 



gfjalUfpeare's Jdjaffen. 

^arcbte* 

Snblidi errttdft' i& auc^ bie Jjo^e fltaft beg £eratteS, 
Seinen Sdjatten. ©r fefojr, letter, toar nicfyt me$r 

gu (e^ii. 
Uttnggum fdjrie, foie 2>cgelgefcfcrei, bag ©efdjret bet 

£ragoben 
Unb bag JpunbegeM ber £ramaturgen urn tyn. 
(Scfyauerlid) ftanb bag Ungeu)itm ba. ©efpannt toax 

ber SSogen 



306 

Philosophic romance, thou mannikin waiting with 
patience, 

When, 'gainst the pruner's attack, nature defendeth 
herself! 

Ancient prose, oh return, — so nobly and boldly ex- 
pressing 

All that thou think'st and hast thought, — and what 
the reader thinks too ! 

All, both in prose and in verse, in Germany fast is 
decaying ; 

Ear behind us, alas, lieth the golden age now ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



SCIENCE. 

To some she is the Goddess great, to some the milch 

cow of the field ; [yield. 

Their care is but to calculate — what butter she will 

Sir Edward Buhver Lytton. 



KANT AND HIS COMMENTATOES. 

How a single rich man supports an army of beggars ! 
When an emperor builds, draymen have plenty to do. 

John S. Dwight. 

SHAKESPEAEE'S SHADE. 

A PARODY. 

I, too, at length discerned great Hercules' energy 

mighty- 
Saw his shade. He himself was not, alas, to be seen. 
Eound him were heard, like the screaming of birds, 

the screams of tragedians, 
And, with the baying of dogs, barked dramaturgists 

around. [extended, 

There stood the giant in all his terrors ; his bow was 



307 

Unb ber $feil auf ber Se^n' traf nod> ^eflanbig 

bag £er^ 
„2Betdje nod) ffrfjnereSE&at, Ungliidlidjer, toagefibu je£o, 
3u ben Serftoroenen feloft nieberjuftetgen in'$ 

©raM" — 
2Begen £irefta3 ntuft 1 idj IjeraB, ben (setjer 3« fragen, 
£3o id) ben alten ^ottjurn fanbe, ber nidjt metyr 

$u fe§n. 
„©lauoen fie nidjt ber S^atur nnb ben alten ©riedjen, 

fo tyolft bn 
Sine Dramaturgte tfjnen oergeMtd) $erauf." — 
D, bte yiatux, bie jeigt auf unfern Suljnen ftcf> toieber, 

(Splitternacft, baf man jeglidje fRippt ifyv ga^tt* 
„$3ie? (So tft wiring Bet end) ber alte ,ftotljurnu$ 

au fel)en, 
£>en ju |ote» i^ felBfi ftieg in be$ £artaru3 

9?a$t?" — 
9?tcfyt3 me^r son biefem tragifdjen (Spuf. $aum ein* 

ntal tm 3a^re 
©etjt bein gefjarntfdjter ©eift iiBer bie Sretter ^intoeg, 
„2Iud) gut! $f)ilofopfyte $at eure ©efufyte gelautert, 
Unb oor bem Intern £umor flteljet ber \fytoax$e 

Effect" — 
3a, ein berBer nub trotfener @pafj, nid^td gef)t un3 

bariiBer; 

2T6er ber 3^wmer and), it»enn er nur nag tjr, gefatlt* 

„9tl)o fteBt man Bei eudj ben lei^ten ^an^ ber Zfyalia 

9?eBen bem ernften ©ang, tceldjen SMpomene get)t?" 

$etne$ oon 23etben! UnS lann nur bag (Efyriftltcfy* 

5D?oraItfcfce riiljren, 
Unb toas redjt popular, puSltdj unb Bitrgerlid) tfh 
„28a3? §3 biirfte fein Sdfar auf euren S3u(;nen ji$ 

Seigen, 



307 

And the bolt, fixed on the string, steadily aimed at 

the heart. 
"What still hardier action, Unhappy One, dost thou 

now venture, 
Thus to descend to the grave of the departed souls 

here?"— 
" 'Tis to see Tiresias I come, to ask of the prophet 
Where I the buskin of old, that now has vanished, may 

find?" 
" If they believe not in Nature, nor in the old Grecian, 

but vainly [them." — 

Wilt thou convey up from hence that dramaturgy to 
" Oh, as for Nature, once more to tread our stage she 

has ventured, [count." 

Ay, and stark-naked besides, so that each rib we can 
"What ? Is the buskin of old to be seen in truth on 

your stage, then, 
Which even I came to fetch, out of mid-Tartarus' 

gloom ? "— [s carcely 

"There is now no more of that tragic bustle, for 
Once in a year on the boards moves thy great soul, 

harness clad." 
"Doubtless 'tis well! Philosophy now has refined 

your sensations, [black." — 

And from the humor so bright, fly the affections so 
"Ay, there is nothing that beats a jest that is stolid 

and barren. [moist." 

But then e'en sorrow can please, if 'tis sufficiently 
" But do ye also exhibit the graceful dance of Thalia, 
Joined to the solemn step with which Melpomene 

moves ?" — [and moral ; 

"Neither ! For nought we love but what is christian 
And what is popular, too, homely, domestic, and 

plain." [your stage now, 

" What ? Does no Caesar, does no Achilles appear on 



308 

$ettt 5I$iff, fein Drefr, feme Smbromadja nte^r?" — 
yiifytzl Wan fte^et oetung nur^farrer, Sommergten* 

ratlje, 
^afmbridje, (Secretary ober Jpufarenmajorg* 
„3Ioer, id) Mtte btdj, Sreunb, toa§ fann benn btefer 

Sftifere 
®ro£ eg fcegegnen, toag fann ©vopeg benn bur$ fte 

gefc^n?" 
2Bag? ©ie madjen (£aBate, fie leifyeu auf $fanber, fte 

ftetfen 
<StIBeme 8 off el ein, foagen ben granger unb ntefjr* 
f/ S3o^er ne^mt ityr benn after bag gro£e, gigantifdje 

©cfyitffal, 
SBeldjeg ben 9ftenf$en erkot, ftenn e^ ben 9flenfdjen 

germalmt?" — 
2)a^ fmb ©alien! Ung feloft unb unfre gnten 53e* 

fannten, 
Unfern Summer unb Sftotfj fudjen unb fhtben ttrir 

$ier» 
„3t6er bag fafct t$r ja afle$ bequemer unb fceffer ju 

£aufe; 
SBarum entflie^et tjjr eu$, roenn i^r eudj feloer nur 

sum" — 

SWmm'g nidjt it&el, ntein £erog, bag ift em oerfdjiebener 

(£afug : 

2)ag ©efdjtd, bag tfl Minb, unb ber $oet ift gere^t* 
„2llfo eure 9latur, bteer6armiid)e, trifftmanauf euren 

SBu^nen, bie grofe nur nityt, nidjt bie unenblidje an ?" 
£>et $oet ift ber SBirty unb ber lefcte 2lctug bte3e$e; 

SBenn ftdj bag Rafter eroridjt, fe£t ftdj bieSugenbju 



308 

Not an Andromache e'en, not an Orestes, my friend ?" 
"Ho ! there is nought to be seen there but parsons, 

and syndics of commerce, 
Secretaries perchance, ensigns and majors of horse." 
"But, my good friend, pray tell me, what can such 

people e'er meet with 
That can be truly called great ? — what that is great 

can they do ?" — 
"What? Why they form cabals, they lend upon 

mortgage, they pocket 
Silver spoons, and fear not e'en in the stocks to be 

placed." 
"Whence do ye, then, derive the destiny, great and 

gigantic, 
Which raises man up on high, e'en when it grinds him 

to dust ?"— 
"All mere nonsense ! Ourselves, our worthy acquaint- 
ances also, 
And our sorrows and wants, seek we and find we, too, 

here." [better, — 

" But all this ye possess at home both apter and 
Wherefore, then, fly from yourselves, if 'tis yourselves 

that ye seek?" — 
" Be not offended, great hero, for that is a different 

question ; 
Ever is destiny blind, — ever is righteous the bard." 
" Then one meets on your stage your own contempti- 
ble nature, 
While 'tis in vain one seeks there nature enduring and 

great ?" — 
" There the poet is host, and act the fifth is the reck- 

'ning ; 
And, when crime becomes sick, virtue sits down to 

the feast!" 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



309 



Xxtu, nne bem ©d^toeiger gebii^rt, Betr-ad) 1 idj ©er* 

manienS ©range; 
SIBer ber ©allier ^iipft iioer ben bulbenben ©trout* 

£R^etn unb Sttofel. 
©$ott fo tang r umarm 1 id) bie IotI)aringifdje3unafrau; 
Pernod) §at fetnSofyn inifre 23erMnbung Beglitdt 

©onau in ** 
Sftidj umtooljnt mit glanjenbem 2Iug ba$ $otf ber 

^fyajafen; 
Smmer ift'S ©onntag, e<3 bref)t immer am £erb ftdj 

ber ©piep* 
Attain* 
Sftetne 23urgen gerfatfen gmar; bodj getrb'ftet erMicf tdj 
©eit 3af)r§unberten nod) immer ba$ alte @efd)ledjt 

@ a a I e* 

^ur^ ift rnein Sauf unb oegritft ber gitrften, ber Poller 

fo inele; 
2H>er bie ^iirften fmb gut, aber bie Golfer finb freu 

31m. 
Sfteine Ufer [tub arm; bodj f)oret bie leifere SBetTe, 
giityret ber ©trom fte oorki, mandjeS unfterHic^e 

£ieb* 

gladj ifi mein Ufer, unb fetdjt mein 23adj, e$ fdjopften 

3U burftig 
Sfteine ^oeten mi$, meine ^rofaifer au$. 



309 



THE KIYEES. 

RHINE. 

Faithfully, as the Swiss ought, I watch the Ger- 
manic frontier ; 

But my gentle current allows the Gaul to leap lightly 
across. 

RHINE AND MOSELLE. 

For years I have wooed the Lotharingian virgin, 
But no child has yet blessed this long union of hearts. 

DANUBE IN * * 

M37 banks are inhabited here by a people with flashing 

eyes ; 
A feasting people ; their roasts are ever revolving on 

spits. 

MAIN. 

My castles are tumbling in ruins, but the race is 
For centuries ever the same ; what a comfort this is to 
the heart ! 

SAALE. 

On my short course I greet a number of princes, of 

peoples ; 
But the princes are good and the peoples are free. 

ILM. 

My banks are not rich, but my silent and quiet wave, 
As the current glides by, hears many an immortal 
song. 

PLEISSE. 

My banks are so flat, my shallow bed has been drained 
By poets and writers in prose who slaked here their 
thirst. 
46 



310 



ant. 

9HI ttyr anbern, t^r fyredjt nur ettt $aubew>aff<§ — 

unter ben gluffen 
£>eutfd)lanb» rebe nur ic^, nnb anc^ in Sfteipen nur, 

beutfd), 

(Spree* 
©pradje gaft.mir cinffc Seamier nnb ©toff mein (Safar; 

ba natym id) 
Sfteinen $tunb etn?a$ soft, after id) fdjweige feitbenu 

SBefer. 

£etber son mtr iji gar ntd)ts 3U fagen; and) ju bem 

lleinften 
(Spigramme, Bebenft, cjeb' id) ber SJlufe nidjt (Stoff. 

©efunbfcrunnen ju** 

(SettfameS Sanb! ipier fyafon bie glitffe ©efdjmad unb 

bte Quellen, 
23ei ben 33ewo§new aHein $ab' id) nodj feinen »er* 

fjmrt, 

©anj tjippod&onbrtfdj Bin id) »or lander SBeite gettorben, 
Unb id) fttefje nur fort, ir-eil e£ fo l)ergebvadjt ift» 

£>ie**d)en gliiffe. 

Unfer einer $&?& falter gut in **d)er iperren 
Sanbernj i§r 3oc§ ijt fanft, unb ttyre Sajten pub 

leidjt 

@ alja $♦ 

2Iu3 3u&ai)ten$ Sergen [from 1 idj, bag Sr^jitft^u fallen, 
Senfe bann 23apern su, too es an ©alje georidjt. 



310 



ELB. 

Ye others, ye speak a mere jargon ; among German 
rivers 

I alone speak German, and speak it in Meissen, for- 
sooth. 

SPREE. 

My Kamler taught me to speak, my Csesar furnished 

the matter ; 
I took my mouth rather full, and have been silent since 

then. 

WESER. 

Alas ! I inspire no poet ; I leave his genius barren ; 
Suggest not a couplet ev'n to the most willing heart. 

SPRINGS of * * 
Here rivers and springs have a taste ; what a 

strangely mysterious country ! 
Among its inhabitants taste scarcely ever is found. 

PEGNITZ. 

From sheer ennui hypochondria threatens to seize me ; 
And I continue to flow simply because 'tis my wont. 

THE RIVERS OF * * 

Truly we fare pretty well in the lands of these gen- 
erous princes, 

For their yoke is quite mild, and their burdens are 
light. 

SALZACH. 

I rush from Juvavia's mountains to salt the bishop's 

domain, 
And afterward turn to Bavaria where the people are 

wanting in salt. 



311 

£)er anon^nte $In£* 

gaftenfpetfen bem £ifd) beg frommcn 33ifdjof$ £it Tiefern, 
©ojj ber ©djopfer mid) cms bnrdj bag oerfynngerte 

£anb* 

Les fleuvesindiscrets. 

3e^t lein SBort metyr, i§r giujfe! 2ft an fiat's, t$r tttjjt 

eud) fo toenig 
3u fcefdjeiben, al<3 einft £)iberotg ©dja£d?en get^an* 



Jer 'g&efaplfofijier. 

„2Bie tief liegt nnter mir bie 2Mt! 

$anm fet) 1 tdj nodj bie 9flenfd)(ein nnten n?aXTcn! 

$3ie trctgt mid) meine $nnft, bie § o cfy fte nntei* alien, 

©o nafye an beg £immel$ 3 e ^'" 

(So ruft oon feineS X%nxmt% Qafyt 

2)er ©d)ieferbeder, fo ber Heine grofie Sftann, 

£an3 Wtztapty\ifu§, in feinem ©djreibgemadje,. 

©ag' an, bn fleiner grower Wlann, 

£er Zi)uxm, son bent bein Slid fo ttornc^m nieber* 

fdjauet, 
SBoiJon i ft er — to o t a n f ift er eroanet? 
SBte lamft bn felBft f)inanf — nnb feine fallen £o§n, 
SBojn ftnb fte bir nitfc, ate in bag Zfyal gn fe^n? 



2>te 'g^effiDcifcn. 

£>er @a£, bnr$ toetcfyen atfeS £)ing 
53eftanb nnb gorm empfangen, 
£)er 9?aget, tooran 3 e n6 ben 9ftng 
£)er SQelt, bie fonft in <Sd)evoen ging, 
SSorftdjtig anfge^angen, 



311 

THE AKONYMOUS RIVER. 

To furnish food during Lent for the bishop's Christian 

table, [domain. 

My Maker caused me to now across his famished 

LES FLEUVES INDISCRETS. 

Now, gossiping rivers, be silent, and show ye becom- 
ing discretion ; [of talk. 
Ev'n Diderot's sweetheart was prudent and less fond 
Charles J. Hempel, M. D. 



THE METAPHYSICIAN. 

" How low the world beneath me lies — 

I scarce can see those human atoms roll. 

How near my Art exalts me to the pole 

That props the fabric of the skies ! " 

Thus, sitting on his turret roof astride, 

Exclaims the Tiler — so that little mighty man, 

Hans Metaphysicus, from closet six feet wide. 

Say on, thou creature of a span ! 

That tower, from whence thine eye looks down with 

such disdain, 
Whereof— whereon is't' built ? The cause explain, 
How thou thyself didst mount. Its height — so vast 

in show — 
What serves it, but to peep into the vale below ? 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F. S.A. 



THE PHILOSOPHERS. 

The principle by which each thing 

Tow'rd strength and shape first tended, — 
The pulley whereon Zeus the ring 
Of earth, that loosely used to swing, 
With cautiousness suspended, — 



312 

•Den rtenn 1 tdj einen grofen ©eljl, 
©er mtr ergriinbet, rote er $eij?r, 
SBenn i d) i|m ntcfyt branf $elfe — 
£r fyeigt: 3^1 ifi tttd)t fttoolfc. 

©er "Settee wac^t fait, bag gener orennt, 
©er Sftenfdj ge^t auf gmei $it£jen, 
©ie ©onne fd)etnt am firmament, 
©ag fann, n>er and) ntdjt Sogif fennt, 
©nrd) fetne <5tnne finffen. 
©odj toer 9ftetapl)9ftf ftnbiert 
©er toetjj, tag, tter oerbrennt, ntc^t frtert, 
SBetg, bag bag ftajfe feu^tct, 
Unb bap bag £ette Ieuc^tet- 

foments, ftngt fein £>odjgebtdjt, 

©er £elb beftd)t ®efaf)ren; 

©er braoe 9ftann ttyut feine $f!id)t, 

Unb ttyat fie, id) »er$e§r eg nidjt, 

(£§ nodj SBettmeife rcaren; 

©od) fyat ©enie nnb iperj ootlbradjt, 

2Bag Sod' nnb ©eg £ art eg nie gebac^t 

©ogleidj nnrb and) son biefen 

©ie 9ttoglid)feit betoiefen, 

3m Seben gilt ber @tarfe Sftedjt, 
©em @d)ir>ad)en trofct ber $itl)ne, 
28er nitty t gebieten fann, ift ,ftnedjt; 
©onft getyt eg gan^ ertragUd) fdjledjt 
Sluf biefer ©rbenbiifyne* 
©odj ioie eg tv-are, ftrtg ber tylan 
©er 2Mt nnr erft son somen an, 
3ft in SDZoralfpftemen 
2lngfiU;rttd) $u oernetymen* 



312 

He is a clever man, I vow, 
Who its real name can tell me now, 
Unless to help him I consent — 
'Tis : ten and twelve are different ! 

Fire burns, — 'tis chilly when it snows, — 

Man always is two-footed, — 
The sun across the heavens goes, — 
This, he who nought of logic knows 

Finds to his reason suited. 
Yet he who metaphysics learns, 
Knows that nought freezes when it burns, — 
Knows that what's wet is never dry, — 
And that what's bright attracts the eye. 

Old Homer sings his noble lays, 

The hero goes through dangers ; 
The brave man duty's call obeys, 
And did so, even in the days 

When sages yet were strangers — 
But heart and genius now have taught 
What Locke and what Descartes ne'er thought ; 
By them immediately is shown 
That which is possible alone. 

In life, avails the right of force, 

The bold the timid worries ; 
Who rules not, is a slave of course, 
Without design each thing across 

Earth's stage forever hurries. 
Yet what would happen if the plan 
Which guides the world now first began, 
Within the moral system lies 
Disclosed with clearness to our eyes. 



313 

„£>er 9ftenf$ Bebarf beg SDtenfdjen fe$r 
3u feinem grogen 3*^; 
Sftur in bem ©anjen nnrfer er, 
SSiel Sropfen geben erft bag 9fteer, 
23iet Staffer treibt bie Sftit&le, 
Drum fliefyt ber nrilben 2B6Ife ©ranb 
Unb fniipft beg ©taateg bauernb 23anb. 
(So letyren oom ^at^ebcr 
£err $uffenborf unb geber* 

£)o$ toeil, wag ein $rofeffor fprtdjt, 
Sftidjt gteidj gu alien bringer, 
@o iibt 9Utur bie 9flutrerpfli($t 
Unb forgt, bag nie bie $ette bridjr, 
Unb bag ber SReif nie fpringet 
(ginftweilen, big ben 33au ber HQtXt 
spfyilofopfyie gufammen^cilt, 
@r$alt fie bag ©etriebe 
£)urdj hunger unb burdj Zitbe. 



^epfits iui godje. 

2htf einem $ferbemarft — &iefletdjt gu ^atymarfet, 
2Bo anbre 3)inge nod) in S3aare fid) oewanbetn, 
Srad)! 1 einft ein fyungriger §>oet 
£)er Sftufen Sftog, eg gu oerfjanbeftn 

jpetl nrietyerte ber iptppogrflpt) 
Unb baumte fidj in prad)tiger $arabe; 
Srftaunt blieb jeber fteljn unb rief : 
Qad eble, foniglid)e £f>ier! 9?ur ©djabe, 
T)a§ feinen fci)lan!en 2Bud)g ein fyaglidj gliigelpaftr 
(Sntfteftt! £>en fd)onften ^ojtgug toitrb' eg gierem 
2)ie S^ace, fagen fie, fei rar, 



313 

" When man would seek his destiny, 

Man's help must then be given ; 
Save for the whole, ne'er labors he, — 
Of many drops is formed the sea, — 

By water mills are driven ; 
Therefore the wolf's wild species flies, — 
Knit are the state's enduring ties," 
Thus Puffendorf and Feder, each 
Is ex cathedra wont to teach. 

Yet if what such professors say, 

Each brain to enter durst not, 
Nature exerts her mother-sway, 
Provides that ne'er the chain gives way, 

And that the ripe fruits burst not. 
Meanwhile, until earth's structure vast 
Philosophy can bind at last, 
'Tis she that bids its pinion move, 
By means of hunger and of love ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



PEGASUS IN THE YOKE. 
Into a public fair — a cattle-fair, in short, 
Where other things are bought and sold — ah, sad to 
tell !— 
A hungry poet one day brought 
The Muse's Pegasus, to sell. 

Shrill neighed the Hippogriff and clear, 

And pranced, and reared, displaying his proud frame, 
Till all exclaimed in wonder, who stood near, 

" The noble royal beast ! But what a shame 
His slender form by such a hateful pair 

Of wings is spoiled ! He'd set off a fine post-team 
well." 
" The race," say others, " would be rare ; 



314 



£o$ t»cr ftnrb burd) bte Suft futfdjieren? 

Unb feiner ttnff feitt ©elb ^erlteren* 

gin $ad)ter enblid) fagte 2Kut^ 

£)te gtiigel gftar, fprtcfct er, bte fdjaffett feinejt 5ttc^en ; 

2>o<$ bie faun man ja Binben ober jiujjen, 

X)ann ift bag $ferb gum 3^ e n immer gut, 

Sin gttjangtg ^Pfunb, bte rottt tdj ttofyt bran ttagen; 

Der STaufdjer, f)od) ttergnitgt, bie SBaare logjufdjlagen, 

(2d)Iagt fyurttg em. „Sin Sftann, ein SBortl" 

Unb £ang traBt frtfcfy mit feiner 93cute fort. 

2)ag eble 3:^ier nurb eingefpannt; 
£od) fitf)lt eg laum bie ungeroofmte 6tirbe, 
©o rennt eg fort mit nulber giugbegierbe 
Hub toirft, oon ebelm ©rtmm entBrannt, 
£)en barren urn an eineg Slbgrunbg $anb. 
©i^on gut, benft £ang. Sldein barf id) bem totten 

Slfyiere 
^ein Su^rtucrl mefyr sertraun. Srfa^rung madjt fdjon 

ftug. 
£>o$ morgen fa^r 1 td) $>af[agiere, 
£)a (ietT'idj eg alg SSorfpann in ben Bug. 
Die muntre ^raBBe foil gmei §)ferbe mir erfparen; 
£>er hotter giot fid) mit ben 3af>ren. 

£>er 5lnfang ging gang gut Qaz leidjtBefdjtoingte 

$ferb 
SeTeBt ber stepper ©djritt, unb pfeilfdmetl fliegt ber 

SBagen. 
£od) trag gefdjiel)t? £>en Slid ben SBolfen gugefe^rt, 
Unb ungen>oi)nt,'ben ®nmb mit feftem £uf gu fdjlagen, 
SSerla ft eg Balb ber 3^dber ftcfyre (Spur, 
Unb, treu ber ftarferen Sftatur, 



314 

But who'd go posting through the air ? " 

And lose his money no one will. 
A farmer mustered courage, though, at length : 

" The wings, indeed," he says, " will be no profit ; 

But them one might tie down, or crop them off ; it 
Then were a good horse for drawing — it has strength. 
I'll give you twenty pounds, sir, win or lose." 
The seller, too delighted to refuse, 
Cried out, " Agreed 1 " and eagerly the offer seized. 
Hans with his bargain trudged off home well pleased. 



The noble beast was harnessed in, 
But felt th' unwonted burden to be light, 
And off he set with appetite for flight, 

And soon his wild careering would begin, 

And hurled the cart in proudest rage 

Over a precipice's edge. 

"Well done!" thought Hans. "We wisdom from 
experience borrow ; 
I'll trust the mad beast with no loads again. 

I've passengers to take to-morrow ; 
He shall be put in leader of the train. 

By using him, two horses I shall spare ; 

He'll learn in time the collar, too, to bear." 

They went on well awhile. The horse was fleet, 
And quickened up the rest; and arrow-swift the 

carriage flies. 
But now what next ? With look turned to the 
skies, 
And unaccustomed with firm hoof the ground to beat, 
He leaves the sure track of the wheels, 
True to the stronger nature which he feels, 



315 

£)urdjrennt eg ©umpf unb 9ftoor, geadert f^etb unb 

£>e(fen; 
X)er gleicfye Xanmel fafjjt bag ganje spoftgejpann, 
$ein Sflufen t)Uft, fein 3 u 9 e * ^^ e ^ att ' 
S3tg ettbtic^, ju ber SBanbrer ©cfyreden, 
2)er SBagen, n>o!)lgeruttelt unb gerfdjeltt, 
2Utf eineg Sergei fteilem ©ipfei l)alt. 

!Da^ geljt ntd)t 311 mit redjten 2)ingen! 
©pricfyt ipans mtt fe$r fcebenfticfyem ®eftdjt, 
@o tinrb eg ntmmermeljr gelingen; 
2a§ fe^n, oft ttrir ben ZoUtouxm nicfyt 
£)urd) magre $oji unb Arbeit jmingem 
£)ie $roBe n?trb gemadjt S3alb ift bag fdjone £fyier, 
©tj nodj bret £age l)ingefd)munben, 
3um ©fatten abge^e^rt 3$ §aV$, id) IjaVg ge* 

funben I 
Stuft £ang» 3e£t frtfdj, wnb fpannt eg mtr 
©letd) t>or ben $fiug mit meinem ftarfften ©tier i 

©efagt, get^an* 3« ladjertidjem 3^9* 
Srfclttft man Dd)g nnb giugelpferb am $ftuge. 
Unnutlig fteigt ber (S>reif nnb ftrengt bie lefcte Wlafyt 
2)er ©eljnen an, ben alten glug 3U netjmen,. 
Umfonft, ber 9?adjBar fcfyreitet mit 25ebad)t, 
Unb spijobn^ ftolgeg $0$ mu§ fid) bem ©tier Itqutmm, 
35ig nun, ttom langen SGtberftanb ser^rt, 
£>te $raft aug alien ©liebern fcfytinnbet, 
35on @ram geBeugt bag eble ©otterpferb 
Qu 23oben ftitrgt unb ftdj im ©tauBe nunbek. 

Serwimfcfyteg £()ier ! Brid)t enblicfy ipanfeng ©rtmm 
£aut fd)eltenb aug, inbem bie Jptebe fiogen* 
©o Bift bu benn jum Sidern fefBft gu fdjltmm, 
9ftidj ^at etn ©djelm mit bir Betrogem 



315 

And runs through marsh and moor, o'er planted field 

and plain , 
And the same fury seizes all the train. 
No call will help, no bridle hold them in, 
Till, to the mortal fright of all within, 
The coach, well shaken and well smashed, brings up 
In sad plight on a steep hill's top. 

" This is not quite the thing ! no — no ! " — ■ 

Says Hans, considering, with a frown : 
u In this way I shall never make it go. 

Let's see if 'twill not tame the wild-fire down, 
To work him hard, and keep him low." 
The trial's made. The beast, so fair and trim, 
Before three days are gone, looks gaunt and grim, 

And to a shadow shrunk. ' ' I have it ! I have found 
it now ! " 
Cries Hans. " Come on now. Yoke me him 

Beside my strongest ox before the plough." 

So said, so done. In droll procession now, 

See ox and winged horse before the plough. 

Unwilling steps the grinin, strains what little might 

Of longing's left in him, to take his fond old flight. 

In vain ; deliberately steps his neighbor, 

And Phoebus' high-souled steed must bend to his slow 

labor, 
Till now, by long resistance spent his force, 

His trembling limbs he can no longer trust, 
And, bowed with shame, the noble, godlike horse 

Falls to the ground, and rolls him in the dust. 

" The cursed beast ! " Hans breaks out furious now, 
And scolds and blusters, while he lays the blows on ; 

"You are too poor, then, even for the plough ! 
The rascal ! so my ignorance to impose on ! " 



316 

3nbem er notfj in fetneS B^JteS 2But$ 
3Die $>eitfd)e forcing:, fommt flin! unb wotylgemuty 
(Ein luftiger ©efeff bie (Strajj e fyerge^ogen. 
£)te Sitter flingt in feiuer (eicfyten £>anb, 
Unb bnrd) ben Monben <5d)mud ber £aare 
©djltngt gierlicfy |tdj ein gotbne$ 23anb. 
2Bol)in, greunb, mit tern nmnberlicfyen $aare? 
Sftuft er ben 25au'r oon toeitem an. 
£)er 25ogel unb ber Cd)3 an ein em ©etle, 
3d) Mite bid), toelcfy ein ©efpannl 
SBittfi bu auf eine Heine SBetle 
S)ein $ferb gur $ro£e mir oertraun? 
©it 2U§t, bn foUft bein SBunber fd)aum 

£er £ippogrs)pt) nurb au£gefpannt, 
Unb lacfyelnb fcfywtngt ftd) ifym ber Singling auf ben 

$aum futjlt baS Slater be3 SfteifterS ftdjre Jpanb, 

(So fnirfcfyt e3 in be3 3ugel3 23anb 

Unb fteigt, unb Slifce fpritf)n au<3 ben Befeelten 23liden* 

9lidjt mtfyx ba^ oor'ge SBefen, fomglicfy, 

Sin ®etft, ein ©ott, erfyeM e3 fid), 

(Sntroflt mit einem Wal in ©turmes SSe^en 

£)er ©cfyrcingen §)rad)t, fcfyieft Braufenb tjimmelan, 

Unb el) ber S3(icf i^m folgen fann, 

SntfdjnjeM e3 ju ben Blauen £o§eju 



SBoUt i$r in meinen ^aften fe§n? 
£)e£ Sefeens ©piel, bie SBelt im Clemen, 
©letd) foil fie eurem Slug' erfdjeinenj 
Sftur mitjjt i§r nid)t $u nat)e ftefjn, 



316 

And while in this way angrily he goes on, 
And swings the lash, behold ! upon the way 
A pleasant youth steps up so smart and gay. 
A harp shakes ringing in his hand, 

And through his glossy, parted hair 
"Winds glittering a golden hand. 

" Where now, friend, with that wondrous pair ?" 
From far off to the boor he spoke. 

" The bird and ox together in that style ! 
I pray you, man, why, what a yoke ! 

But come, to try a little while, 
Will you intrust your horse to me ? 
Look well, a wonder you shall see." 

The Hippogriff's unyoked, and with a smile, 

The youth springs lightsomely upon his back. 
Scarce feels the beast the Master's certain hand, 
But gnashes at his wings' confining band, 

And mounts, with lightning-look, the airy track. 
]STo more the being that he was, but royally, 
A Spirit now, a God, up mounteth he ; 

Unfurls at once, as for their far storm-flight, 
His splendid wings, and shoots to heaven with fierce, 

wild neigh ; 
And, ere the eye can follow him, away 

He melts into the clear blue height. 

John 8. Dwight. 



THE PUPPET-SHOW OF LIFE. 

Thou'rt welcome in my box to peep ! 
Life's puppet-show, the world in little, 
Thou'lt see depicted to a tittle, — 

But pray at some small distance keep ! 



317 

3$r miifj t fie bet ber Siebe ^er^en 
Unb nut bet 2hnorg gatfel fef)n* 

(Sdjaut I)er! 9Jie nu'rb bie Sittjne leer? 
£)ort bringen fte bag .ftinb getragm, 
£)er $nabe ppft, ber Sitting ftiirmt eintyer, 
(Eg fampft ber 9ftann, unb afleg will er rcagen. 

(Sin jeglidjer tterfud)t fein ©liid, 
£)ocfy fcfymal nur ift bie S3a^n ^urn Bennett; 
£)er 2Bagen rotlt, bie 2l$fett brennen, 
2)er £elb bringt fit^n scran, ber ©cfyroadjUng bleibt 

£>er ©tol^e fdHt mit ladjerlidjem gatle, 
2)er $luge itberfjolt fie alle* 

£)ie grauen feljt ifyr an ben ©cfyranfen jre^n, 
?CRit f)olbem 331tcf, mit fd)5nen £anben 
£)en £)anf bem ©ieger auggufpenben* 



^tinem jimgett gtreunbe, 

alg er fid) ber 2BeInt>et^ett tmbmete* 

(Severe ^rufungen mu§te ber grie$tfd)e SuttflJtitg 

beftefjen, 
&§ bag eleufifcfyeipaug nun ben 23eftaf)rten empftng* 
23tft bn bereitet unb retf, bag ^eiligt^um ^u betreten, 
2Bo ben »erbad)ttgen &fya% $atlag 5lt^ene »er* 

njafjrt? 
SSeift bu fcfyon, mag beiner bort f)arrt? une teener bu 

faufeft? 
£)afj bu dn ungetuig ©ut mit bem gemiffen beja^tft? 
gitfylft bu bir (Bt'dxU genug, ber ^ampfe fdjtoerften 3U 

fampfen, 



317 

'Tis by the torch of love alone, 
By Cupid's taper, it is shown. 

See, not a moment void the stage is ! 

The child in arms at first they bring, — 
The boy then skips, — the youth now storms and rages,- 

The man contends, and ventures everything ! 

Each one attempts success to find, 

Yet narrow is the race-course ever : 

The chariot rolls, the axles quiver, 
The hero presses on, the coward stays behind, 
The proud man falls with mirth-inspiring fall, 
The wise man overtakes them all ! 

Thou seest fair woman at the barrier stand, 
With beauteous hands, with smiling eyes, 
To glad the victor with his prize. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



TO A YOUNG FBIEND DEVOTING HIMSELF 
TO PHILOSOPHY. 

Severe the proof the Grecian youth was doomed to 
undergo, 

Before he might, what lurks beneath the Eleusinia, 
know — 

Art thou prepared and ripe, the shrine — that inner 
shrine — to win ? [within ? 

Where Pallas guards from vulgar eyes the mystic prize 

Know'st thou what bars thy way ? how dear the bar- 
gain thou dost make, 

When but to buy uncertain good, sure good thou dost 
forsake ? 

Feel'st thou sufficient strength to brave the deadliest 
human fray — 
47 



318 

SBenn (Id) SBerpanb unb fytxi, (Sinn unb ©ebanfen 

entgrcetn? 
9ftut$ genug, mit be3 3*"f c ^ unjler&litfyer £pbra gu 

ringen, 
Unb bem fteinb in bir felfcfi ntannUdj entgegen gu 

ge^t? 
2ftit be$ 2htge3 ©efnnb^eit, be3 £ergena Jjeiliger Un* 

fault) 
3u entlar&en ben £rug, ber bid) als 2Ba$r$eit »er* 

8Uet)e, Mjt bu beS $u§rer3 tm eigenen 23ufen nidjt 

fitter, 
Slie$e ben locfenben 3tanb, ei)e ber @d)Iunb bid) 

ijerfd)lingt! 
2fland)e gingen nadj 2id)t unb (liirgten in tiefere 9?a$t 

nur; 
©i$er im £)ammerfdjetn ttanbelt bie^inbfceitbatjin. 



^oefie 6c0 elevens. 

Sin *** 

„2Ber moc^te ftdj an Sd)atten£ilbern toetben, 
£ie mit erborgtem (5d)em ba$ SSefen iiberfleiben, 
SOZit tritgertfcfyem 33eftg bie ipojfnung f)intergefyn? 
©ntblogt mu£ id) bie SBafyrfyeit fe§n* 
©oil gteidj mit meinem 2Qai)n mein ganger Jpimmel 

fdjnnnben, 
<5qU gleid) ben freten ©eijr, ben ber er^afcne S^3 
3n3 grdngenlofe iReic^ ber 9Jtogtid)feiten trug, 
2)ie ©egentrart mit jircngcn f$ejjeln fctnben; 
(£r lernt ftd) fclbcr itbernnnben, 
3^n toirb ba» fyetlige ©eftot 
2)er $>flidjt, ba^ fuvd)tl>are ber 9tot§ 



318 

When Heart from Reason — Sense from Thought, shall 
rend themselves away ? 

Sufficient valor, war with Doubt, the Hydra-shape, to 
wage; 

And that worst foe within thyself with manly soul en- 
, gage ? 

"With eyes that keep their heavenly health — the inno- 
cence of youth 

To guard from every falsehood, fair beneath the mask 
of Truth ? 

Fly, if thou canst not trust thy heart to guide thee on 
the way — 

Oh, fly the charmed margin, ere the abyss engulf its 
prey. 

Round many a step that seeks the light, the shades of 
midnight close ; 

But in the glimmering twilight, see — how safely Child- 
hood goes ! 

Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. 






THE POETRY OF LIFE. 

1J,Q # -X- tt 

"Who would himself with shadows entertain, 

Or gild his life with lights that shine in vain, 

Or nurse false hopes that do but cheat the true ? — 

Though with my dream my heaven should be resigned- 

Though the free-pinioned soul that once could dwell 

In the large empire of the Possible, 

This work-day life with iron chains may bind, 

Yet thus the mastery o'er ourselves we find, 

And solemn duty to our acts decreed, 

Meets us thus tutored in the hour of need, 



319 

9lux beflo nnterttitrf ger ftnbetu 

2Ber fcfyon ber SBa^rfyeit milbe £errfd)Ctft fc^eu^ 

2Bie tragi er tie ^otl)ioenbigfeit?" 

(So rufft bn au$ nnb bliifft, mein ftrenger §mmb, 
2lu3 ber (Srfafyrnng ftd^erm $orte 
23ertoerfenb §in auf attes, voa$ nnr fdjeint- 
(Srfdjredt oon beinem ernften SBorte 
(Sntflte^t ber SiebeSg otter Sdjaar, 
Der Sftnfen (Spiel serftnmmt, e<3 rnljn ber £orett 

(Still tranernb neljmen tljre ^ran^e 

Die <S$rceftergottinnen oom fd)6n gelotften £cur, 

Stpoll jerbricfyt bie golbne Seter, 

Unb $erme6 feinen SBnnberftab, 

De3 £ranmes rofenfarbner ©djleier 

gaUt oon be3 2eben3 bleidjem 2lntti£ ab, 

Die SBelt fdjetnt, toas fie ift, eirt ©raK 

23on feinen 2Ingen nimmt bie ganberifcfye 33inbe 

(£9t!)eren$ (Sofyn, bie Siebe ftel)t, 

(Sie ftetjt in ifjrent ©btterfinbe 

Den (Sterblidjen, erf^ritft nnb flie^t, 

Der <Sd)onl)eit 3ngenbbilb oeraltet, 

2luf beinen Sippen fefbft erlaltet 

Der £iebe $u£, nnb in ber grenbe <Sd)ttmng 

©rgreift bid} bie 23erfteinernng» 



^lt g)0Cff)C, 

ftlS er ben 9ttaf)omet i>on SSoItaire auf He 23ulme Ixatyte. 

Dn felbft, ber nnS von falfdjem iftegel^toange * 
3ur 2Bal)rl)eit nnb Sftatnr prucfgefitljrt, 
Der, in ber 2Biege f$on ein £elb, bie ©flange 
(Erjiidt, bie nnfern ©enins nmfdjnitrt, 



319 

"With a more sober and submissive mind ! 

How front Necessity — yet bid thy youth 

Shun the mild rule of life's calm sovereign, Truth ?" 

So speak'st thou, friend, how stronger far than I, 

As from Experience — that sure port serene — 

Thou look'st ; and straight, a coldness wraps the sky, 

The summer glory withers from the scene, 

Scared by the solemn spell ; behold them fly, 

The godlike images that seemed so fair ! 

Silent the playful Muse — the rosy Hours 

Halt in their dance ; and the May-breathing flowers 

Fall from the sister-Graces' waving hair. 

Sweet-mouthed Apollo breaks his golden lyre, 

Hermes, the wand with many a marvel rife ; — 

The vail, rose-woven by the young Desire 

With dreams, drops from the hueless cheeks of Life. 

The world seems what it is — A Grave ! and Love 

Casts down the bandage wound his eyes above, 

And sees /—He sees but images of clay 

Where he dreamed gods ; and sighs — and glides away 

The youngness of the Beautiful grows old, 

And on thy lips the bride's sweet kiss seems cold; 

And in the crowd of joys — upon thy throne 

Thou sitt'st in state, and hardenest into stone. 

Sir Edviqrd Bulwer Lytton. 



TO GOETHE. 

On his producing Voltaire's Mohammed on the Stage. 

O thou who hast redeemed us from false fetters, 
Hast led us back on Nature's holy soil ; 

Who, mighty ev'n while young, hast crushed the abet- 
tors 
Of foreign taste, whose slimy serpents coil 



320 

£>u, ben bie Stun% bie gottlidje, f$on knge 
Sftit ifrrer retnen ^riefterBinbe jierr, 
£)u opferft auf jcrtrummerten 2l(taren y 

£er Slftcrmufc, bie mir nidjt mdjr efyren? 

(Sinfjeim'fcfcer Jtunjl ift biefer <2$aupla£ eigen, 
£ier ttirb nidjt frembctt ©ofjen meljr gebientj 
SSir fonnen mutfcig einen Sorbeer ^etgen, 
£)er auf bem beutfd)en §)inbug fetbft gegriint. 
(2eIBft in ber ^iinfte £eiligtf)um gu fteigen, 
£at ftdj ber beutfcfye ©eniug erfii^nt, 
Unb auf ber Spur beg ©rie^en unb bed Written 
3ft er bem Beffern 3hi§me nacl)gefd)ritten, 

£enn borr, n?o (Sffasen fnien, £ eft o ten fcalten, 

$3o ftdfo bie ettle Slftergrb'fje Mafjt, 

25 a fann bie Jtnnft bag (Me nidjt geftatten, 

S3 on feinem Sub roi g mirb eg auggefat; 

Slug etgner giitle mug eg fid) entfalten, 

gg oorget ntcfyt von irfo'fdjer SSftajejiat, 

9htr mit ber SBafjrljeit ttirb eg ftdj oerma^Ien, 

Unb feme ©lutfy burcftflammt nur freie ©eeten- 

2)rum ni&t, in alte ^effeln ung gu W a Q™t 
Srneuerft bu bieg (Spiel ber alten 3eit, 
9ft$t, ung guru^ufiifyren gu ben Sagen 
(Efrarafterlofer Sftinberjafyrigfeit 
(£g trar' ein eitel unb oergeb(id) 2£agen 
3u fallen tng Betregte Sftab ber 3"t; 
©efliigelt fort entfiifcren eg bie (Stunben; 
£ag -fteue fommt, bag 2(lte ift serfd^unbeiu 

©rweitert je^t ift beg Jfjeaterg (Snge, 
3n feinem Sftaume brangt ftc^> eine 2Mt; 
9fUd)t me^r ber SBorte rebnerifdj ©eprange, 



320 

Round German genius, stifling native letters ; 

In temples reared by thy majestic toil, 
Why wouldst thou worship upon ruined altars 
Strange muses which the heart, to honor, falters ? 

To native art our stage is consecrated, 
Our people's hearts for German muses glow ; 

The reign of foreign gods is abrogated ; 
A German Pindus we can boldly show. 

A sanctuary we've conquered, though belated, 
Where German songs like mighty torrents flow ; 

By following Grecian art and British methods, 

We've built up monuments to better gods. 

Where despots rule, where nations homage tender 
To spurious greatness and its sickly bloat, 

Will art its noblest manhood soon surrender ; 
By Louis' favors pampered it may gloat, 

And borrow lustre from his courtly splendor ; 
In freedom's ether it should ever float, 

Of its own fulness should inspire its lyre, 

And, loving truth, burn with her holy fire. 

Then why wouldst thou renew the rigid ruling 
Of former ages and their measured play ? 

And why wouldst thou subject us to the schooling 
Which was our lot in childhood's foolish day ? 

Wouldst thou not spurn it as pernicious fooling, 
With daring hand the wheel of time to stay ? 

On wings it rolls along the path of ages, 

And with the old the new a battle wages. 

The narrow stage has widened its dimensions, 

Upon its boards we see a moving world ; 
We've ceased to love rhetorical pretensions, 



321 



9cur ber 9Mur getreueS 33ilb gefatft; 

23erBannet ift ber ©ittett faffdje ©trenge, 

Unb menfdjltdj fjanbelt, ntenfcfyltdj fitfylt ber £e!b, 

Die £eibenfd)aft er^eBt tie freten £one, 

Unb in ber 2Bal)d)eit ftnbet man bas (Begone* 

Dod) letdjt gegtntmert nur ifr ST^efpi^ SBagen, 
Unb er ift gleid) bent adjeront'fdjen $atjnj 
9?ur ©fatten unb 3bote faun er tragen, 
Unb brangt ba<3 ro()e Scfcen ftd) tjeran, 
©o bro()t bas Ieid>te gafyrgeug umgufcfylagen, 
Da3 nur bie fliidjt'gen ©cijrer faff en lann* 
Der ©d)ein foil nie bie SSirflicfyfeit erreid)en, 
Unb fiegt Sftatur, fo ntup bie Stvinfi entoeicfyett* 

Denn auf bent Bretternen ©eritfi ber <Scene 

SQirb eine 3bealu>elt aufgetfyan* 

9ttd)t$ fet t)ier roatyr unb nrirfHdj, aU bie SHjrane; 

Die SUtfyrung rufyt auf fcinem ©innem»a§iu 

2lufrid)ttg ift bie irafyre Melpomene, 

<5ie fimbigt ntdjts ai$ eine ^aBel an, 

Unb n?eifj burd) ttefc $M;rf)eit gu entgitcfen; 

Die falfd)e ftcllt fidj toafyr, urn $u beriiden* 

@g brol)t bie ^unft »om ©djauplajj gu tterfd)tt>inben, 

3fyr roitbeS SReid) Befyauptet $f)antajte; 

Die S3 it l) n e n»ill fie true bie S3 el t enrgitnben, 

DaS 9Uebrigfte unb Jpod)fte menget fte* 

9to Bet bem granfen war nod) kun\t gu ftnbeu, 

(£rfd)toang er gleid) t$r t)ol)t$ UrBtlb nie; 

©eBannt in un&eranberlidjen ©djranfen 

£alt er fie feft, un\> nimnter barf fte wanfen* 

Sin fjetftger SSe^ir! ift if)tn bie (Scene; 
SSerBannt au3 ifyrem feftlicfyen ©eBiet 

emitters fammtt. SBerte. 1. 21 



,321 

• And nature's noble banner is unfurled ; 
Our spirit soars above all false conventions, 

By human impulse is our hero hurled 
From deed to deed ; or moved by tender passion, 
And truth and beauty have become our fashion. 

But Thetis' chariot is of light construction, 
Like Acheron's boat it gently glides along ; 

It would upset, its fate would be destruction, 

If freighted with life's rude and boisterous throng 

It carries floating shades, or bold productions 
Of fancy's airy mist and noble song. 

The fitful phantoms of the stage should ever 

A graceful art and vulgar nature sever. 

Upon the boards we show with charming diction 
The ideal world of beauty and of joy ; 

The heart is sweetly moved by warm affliction, 
Its gushing tear unmixed with base alloy. 

Melpomene rules in the sphere of fiction, 
Yet will her truth the gentle heart decoy ; 

And teaching wisely, warm the soul with pleasure, 

Shun spurious art and her pretentious measure. 

Art threatens to forsake our public places, 
And fancy rushes wildly on her track ; 

Inflames the stage like common sporting races, 
With high and low, exulting, at her back. 

The Frenchman has preserved her purer traces, 
Though of the highest type there is a lack ; 

He holds her spellbound, within lines as rigid 

As the inspirations of his muse are frigid. 

To him the stage is holy, consecrated 
To classic language, not to vulgar sport ; 



322 

©info focr 9fatur nadjtafftg rotje £6ne, 
S)ie ©pradje felbjt erfyebt ftdj itjm ^urn Sieb; x 
@S ift ein Steidj beg SBofytlanrg nnfo ber ©cfyone, 
3n ebler Drbnnng greifet ®(ieb in CSHiefo, 
3nm ernften STentpel fiiget ftcfb bag ©anje, 
Unfo tie 23ettegnng forget Sfleig ttom Zanft* 

9Ud)t ^itfler gtuar foarf nng foer granfe tucrfoett! 
2ln^ feiner $unji fprid>t fein lebenfo'ger ©eift; 
£>eg fatten 3lnftanfog prnnfenbe ©efrerfoen 
SBerfdjmafjt foer ©inn, foer nnr foa^ SBa^re pretgtl 
(Sin $iil)rer nnr jnm 53e(fern fott er toerben, 
dx fomme, nrie ein abgefcfyiefoner ©eift, 
3n retnigen foie oft enttr-eifyte ©cene 
3nm ttiirb'gen ©i{$ foer alten Melpomene* 



Jkn pemoifelle Jfeuoigf, 

Bet tfyrer SSerfyetrattymtg mtt #errn Dr. (Sturm, son enter 
miitterltd^cn nub fttnf fc^toefterlicfyen grennbmnen, 

3iefy, fyolbe 23rant, ntit nnferm ©egen, 
Qitfy tyn anf iptymeng SlumentT'egenl 

2Qir fa^en ntit ent^udtem 25Iid 
£)er ©eele SInmuttj ffcfy entfalten, 
£>ie jnngen Sftei^e ftc^ geftalten 

Unb Miityen fiir foer SieBe ®liicf. 
SDein [clones Soog, fon Ijaft'S gefunben; 
@g tteidjt foie grennbfdjaft ojjne ©camera 
$Dem fitfen ®ott, foer foidj gebunfoenj 
(£r null, er $at foein ganger ^era» 

3n ttjenren spfftdjten, garten ©orgen, 
£)em jnngen 23ufen nodj serforgen, 
S^uft bid) beg ^ranjeg ernfte 3ier» 



322 

Its sacred precincts are not desecrated 

By rude neglect or plebeian retort. 
In measured order every fact is stated, 

And taste and melody the words assort ; 
All parts into a solemn temple joined, 
"Where rhythm and motion are with grace entwined. 

We cannot greet the Frenchman as our teacher, 
His art is not inspired with living fire ; 

His manners may befit a courtly preacher : 
We cherish truth, and scorn opinion's hire. 

We may respect his art and may beseech her 
To guide to purer forms us with her lyre ; 

She may restore the stage to- noble effulgence, 

And free it from the stains of rude indulgence. 

Charles J. Hempel, M.D. 



TO MISS SLEYOIGT. 

ON THE OCCASION OF HER MARRIAGE WITH DR. STURM. PRESENTED 
BY ONE MOTHERLY AND FIVE SISTERLY FRIENDS. 

Fair bride, attended by our blessing, 

Glad Hymen's flowery path 'gin pressing ! — 

We witnessed with enraptured eye 
The graces of thy soul unfolding, 
Thy youthful charms their beauty moulding 

To blossom for love's ecstasy. 
A happy fate now hovers round thee, 

And friendship yields without a smart 
To that sweet god whose might hath bound thee ;— 

He needs must have, he hath thy heart ! 

To duties dear, to troubles tender, 
Thy youthful breast must now surrender, 
Thy garland's summons must obey. 



323 

£)er Rintynt tanbetnbe ©efii^te, 
2)er freien 3ugenb flitdjt'ge ©piete, 

Bit Meifcert flidjenb Winter bir, 
Unb $ymtn$ ernfte gejfct Mnbet, 
2Bo 2Imor leitfct unb fiatternb ppft; 
£)odj fitr eitt £erj, bag fdjim empfinbet, 
3ft fie au$ ©lumen nur gefnitpft 

Unb ttntfjt bu bag ©eijeimnifj nriffett, 
2)a£ immer grim unb ungerrijfen, 

2)en tyo&gettlidjen $rang fcemafyrt? 
£g ift beg Jpergeng reine (SJiite, 
5)er Slnmntt) underwrite SBfutfje, 

2)te nut ber gotten ©cfyam fid) paart, 
©ie, gleid) bem tjeitern ©onnenMIbe, 
3n alle Jpergen 2Sonne ladjt, 
£g ift ber fanfte Slid ber 9fti(be 
Unb 28iirbe, bie jtdj fetbft fce»a$t. 



2>er griedjifdje Remits 

an SSfte^er m Stalten* 
£anfenb Slnbern serftummt, bie mit rauDem ^ergen 

u)n fragen, 
£)ir, bem SSerwanbten unb $reunb, rebet oertrauttdj 

ber ®eift 



<£intm Sfreimbe m$ Jfammfiitdj. 

£errn son 9D?ett)eln aug SSafeL 
Unerfdjopflid) an 9tetg, an immer erneuerter (Scfyonljeit 
3ft bie 9?atur! £>ie ^nnjt ift unerfd)opf(t$, nue fte> 
£eil bir, nmrbiger ©reig ! fitr Mbe Bema^rft bu im 

Bergen 
Sftegeg ©efiU)t, unb fo ift etvige 3ngenb bein £oo$* 



323 

Each toying infantine sensation, 
Each fleeting sport of youth's creation, 

For evermore hath passed away ; 
And Hymen's sacred bond now chaineth 

Where soft and fluttering Love was shrined ; 
Yet for a heart, where beauty reigneth, 

Of flowers alone that bond is twined. 

The secret that can keep for ever 

In verdant links, that nought can sever, 

The bridal garland, would'st thou find ? 
'Tis purity the heart pervading, 
The blossoms of a grace unfading, 

And yet with modest shame combined, 
Which, like the sun's reflection glowing, 

Makes every heart throb blissfully ; — 
'Tis looks with mildness overflowing, 

And self-maintaining dignity ! 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 

GRECIAN GENIUS. 

TO MEYER IN ITALY. 

Though mute to the thousands who question him 
with deaf hearts, [friend. 

He holds familiar converse with thee, his intelligent 
Charles J. Hempel, M.D. 



YEESES WRITTEN IK THE ALBUM OF A 
FRIEND. 

HERB VON MECHELN OF BASLE. 

Nature in charms is exhaustless, in beauty ever re- 
viving ; 

And, like nature, fair art is inexhaustible too. 

Hail, thou honored old man ! for both in thy heart 
thou preservest [lot ! 

Living sensations, and thus ne'er ending youth is thy 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



324 
§n has 5tofto-§famm6uc5 

eto $unjlfreunbe$. 

>Die $3ei3tjeit toofynte fori (I auf grogen gotioBogen, 
£)er greunbfcfyaft war ein £afd)enbud) oeftimmt; 
Sefct, ba bie 2Biffenfd)aft ins ^leine ftdj ge^ogen, 
Unb letdjt, »ic Stoxt, to SJImana^en fdjttummt, 
£aft bu, ein ^oc^be^ergter SSftann, 
£)ie3 ungetjeure $au$ ben ^reunben aufget^an* 
2Bie, fitrd)teft bu benn nidjt, id) mug bidj ernfltidj 

fragen, 
5ln fo »iel greunben atTgufc^njer gu tragen? 

5as ^efdjenH. 

SFttng unb @tao, o feib mir auf Stfjeimoeinflaf^en 

roitlfommen! 
3a, tuer bie ©djafe fo tranlet, ber t)eijjt mir ein #irt. 
£>reimal gefegneter £ranf ! bid) getr-ann mir bie 9ftufe, 

bie 9ftufe 
©djidt bid), bie .ftirdje fetoft briidte bas ©iegel bir auf* 

SBenn rotje ^rcifte feinblid) fid) entjroeien, 
Unb btinbe $3utf) bie ,ftriege3flamme fd)iirtj 
SQenn fid) int ^ampfe tobenber $atteien 
£)ie ©timme ber ©ered)tigfeit serliert; 
SBerin atle Safter fd)amlo6 ft c^> befreien, 
SSenn freeze S3itl!ur an ba3 ipeil'ge ritfjrt, 
£)en 2tn!er lo^t, an bent bie t&taaten l)angen: 
— 2)a ift fein ©toff $u freubigen ©efangen. 



* SOW biefen Stanjen begleitetc ber SBerfaffer H$ (Exemplar fetneg ©djau- 
friel>$: 2Btli)elm Sell, i>a» er tern bamaltgen .fturfurfien grjfanjler 
iiberfenbete. 



324 

VERSES WRITTEN IN THE FOLIO-ALBUM 

OF A LEARNED FRIEND. 

Once wisdom dwelt in tomes of ponderous size, 

While friendship from a pocket-book would talk ; 
But now that knowledge in small compass lies, 

And floats in almanacs, as light as cork, 
Courageous man, thou dost not hesitate 
To open for thy friends this house so great ! 
Hast thou no fear, I seriously would ask, 
That thou may'st thus their patience overtask ? 
Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



THE PRESENT. 
Crosier and Ring, right welcome — on flasks of Rhen- 
ish imprinted ! 
Whoso thus waters his sheep, truly a shepherd I call. 
O thou thrice-blessed drink ! by the Muse I earned 

thee. The Muse too 
Sent thee — the Church herself stamps with her signet 
thy worth. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.8.A. 



WILLIAM TELL.* 

When rugged forces break in hostile fractions, 
And blind resentment stirs the flames of war ; 

When 'mid the strife of fierce contending factions 
The voice of Justice scarce is heard from far ; 

When rage unchained all crimes and shameless actions, 
When daring Will would reach the furthest star ; 

The anchor lost that formed the State's dependence ; 

No season this for joyful song's attendance. 



* These verses were sent by Schiller to the then Electoral High 
Chancellor, with a copy of his William Tell. 



325 

£)od) ttjcntt tin SSoIf, bag fromm bte £>eerben ioeiber, 
(Bify felbft genug, nid)t fremben ($ut$ begeljrt, 
£)en 3 lvan g abwirft, ben eg umoitrbig letbet, 
£)odj felbft im Qoxn bie 9}cenfd)lid)fett ttodj tljxt, 
3tn ©litde felbft, im ©tege fid) befd)etbet: 
— £)as ift unfterblid) unb beg Siebeg toertlj* 
Unb fold) ein 23ilb barf tdj bir freubig ^eigen,. 
2>u fennffg, benn atleg ©rofje ift bein eigert* 



Jem Jrfiprm^u dou 'g^ciiuar, 

al$ er na# $artg retgte, 
Sn einem freimbf^aftltdjen 3^1 gefungen. 

(So brtnget berttt bte lejjte oolle ©djale 

£)em lieben 2Banbrer bar, 
S)er 2lbfd)teb nimmt 'oon biefem jHttett £tjale, 

£)ag feine 2S?iege war* 

(£r tetgt ftdj aug ben »aterlid)en fallen, 

Slug lieben Slrmert log, 
$lafy jener ftolgen Sitrgerftabt $u tralfen, 

SSom 3ftaub ber Sanber grog. 

£)ie B^ietradjt flieljt, bie Donnerftitrme fdjfteigen, 

©efeffelt ift ber $rieg, 
Unb in ben Crater barf man nieberftetgen, 

2lng bent bie Zasa ftieg* 

£)id) fitl) re burd) ^a§ toilb bemegte ZtUn 

(Sin gncibigeg ®efd)tcf! 
Sin reineg ^erj l)at bir Iftatur gegeben, 

D brings eg rein 3itrit(f! 

Die Sanber nnrft bit fe^en, bie bag nrilbe 
©efpann beg Jhiegg jertratj 



325 

But when a race content with Pastoral blessing, 
Its flocks depasturing on the accustomed plains, 

Hath spurned the yoke of tyrant power oppressing, 
Yet pays the tribute reverend use ordains ; 

In joy, in misery, still itself possessing ; 
— This — this is praise that asks immortal strains : 

The picture this I fain would bid thee see — 

Thou knows't it — all that's great belongs to thee ! 
John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



TO THE HEBEDITATtY PBINCE OF WEIMAK, 

ON HIS PROCEEDING TO PARIS. 

Sung in a circle of friends. 

Bring then the last full cup ! — the wine-cup flowing 

To our loved Traveler bring — 
From this our peaceful vale to-morrow going, 

Which nursed his early spring ! 

He tears himself from Fatherland asunder, 

From dearest friends away, 
To view that proud free town — the nations' wonder — 

Gorged with the nations' prey. 

Now discord flees ; the thunder-storm has ending ; 

War lies in fetters held ; 
And in the Crater we may gaze, descending, 

Whence late the Lava welled. 

Oh may'st thou by a favoring Fate be driven 

O'er life's wild course, secure ! 
Pure is the heart to thee by nature given — 

O bring it back as pure ! 

Those realms thou shalt survey, so late disseated 
By Battle's furious steeds, 
48 



326 

2)odj ladjetitb gritfjt ber $rtebe bte ©eftlbe 
Unb ftreut bte golbrte ©aat* 

2)en alten better 3ft(jem tmrjl bn oegriifjen, 

2)er beineg gro^en 2H)ng 
©ebenfen nurb, fo lang fein ©trom toirb fltepen 

3n^ Sett be^ Oceans 

£)ort tjntbtge beg £etb*en groj^en 9ftanen 

Unb cpfere bem 3^ein, 
£)em alten ©rangenfyiiter ber ©ermanen, 

3Son fetnem etgnen 28etn, 

£)afj btdj ber oaterlanb'fdje ®etft oegleite, 

SBenn bid) bag fcfyroanfe SBrett 
.JpinitBertragt auf jene Un!e ©eite, 

2Bo beut[d)e £ren oergefyt. 



J>er Jttfriff bes tteuen galjrijutt&crfe. 

Sin *** 

(£bler $rennb! 2Bo offnet fidj bent $rteben, 
2Bo ber greitjeit fid) ein 3«Pudjtgort? 

£)ag 3<*Wnnbert tft tm ©tnrm gefd)ieben, 
Unb bag neue off net fid) tttit Sftorb. 

Unb bag 33anb ber £anber tft gefyooen, 
Unb bie alten gormen ftitr^en dn; 

9?td)t bag SBeltmeer f)emmt beg ^rtegeg Soften, 
Sftidjt ber SWgott nnb ber alte 0t$ehu 

3wo getoalf ge Sftattonen rtngen 

Urn ber SMt atleintgen 23efi{3 ; 
Sitter £anber gretfyett jn oerfd)ltngen, 

©d)iotngen \it ben Dretaad nnb t>m Sflfc, 



326 

Where smiling Peace once more the fields hath greeted, 
And strewed the golden seeds. 

Old Father Khine thou shalt salute, who never 

Will let the fame be dead 
Of thy great grandsire, whilst his wave forever 

Rolls on to the Ocean bed. 

There to the Hero's Manes homage render, 

And full libations pour 
Of his own wine to that old Flood, defender 

Of the Germanic shore — 

For that thy country's genius may attend thee, 

When to the further bank, 
Where German faith is wanting to befriend thee, 

Borne on thy bark's frail plank. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.8.A. 



THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE NEW 
CENTURY.* 

rn/-v ■%■ -5fr "St 

" Noble friend ! say where may Freedom banished, 
Where may stricken Peace a refuge find, 

Now the Century in storm hath vanished, 
And the next in carnage treads behind — 

"And the bond of nations rent asunder, 
And old forms swift basting to decline ; 

Nor does Ocean stay the battle's thunder, 
Nor the Nile-god, nor the ancient Rhine. 

"Two gigantic rival states, contending 

For the sole dominion of the world, 
O'er all laws, all birthrights else impending, 

Have the trident and the lightning hurled. 



* See note s. 



327 

(Mb mufj ttmett jebe Sanbfdjaft wSgcti, 
Unb, n>te 33rennu$ in ber rofyen 3^/ 

Secjt ber prattle feinen eljrnen £)egen 
3n bie SBage ber ©eredjtigfeit 

(Seine £anbelgflotten ftrecft ber 23rttte 

dHerig, tine $ol9penarme aug, 
Unb bag Sietcfy ber freien Slmp^itrtte 

2Bitt er fdjliefien, tine fein eigneg $au$. 

3« beg (Siibpolg nie erMitfren ©ternen 
2)ringt fein raftlog unge^emmter Sauf j 

Sttte 3nfeln fyitrt er, atle fernen 
Mften — nur bag $arabieg nic^t auf* 

%$, umfonft auf alien £anber$arren 
©pafeft bu nad) bem feligen ®eMer, 

S3o ber grei^eit erotg griiner ©arten, 
2Bo ber 9ttenfd$ett fdjime 3ugenb Mufyt. 

(£nbtog tiegt bie SBett t>or beinen 23liden, 
Unb bie @d)ifffa()rt felbftermtgt fie laum*, 

T)o& auf i^rem unermeffnen Sftiiden 
3ft fitr jefjen ©iudlid^e nicfyt Siaum. 

3n beg iper^eng tyeitia, flttXe Sftaume 

Wufyt bu fliefjen au$ beg Meng ©rang! 

greifyeit ift nur in bem #tetdj ber £raume, 
Unb bag @^6ne Uufyt nur im ©efang* 



gangers ^fifdjteb. 

£)ie 9ttufe fdjmeigt; mit jungfr auf tdjen 2Bana.ett, 
Srrot^en im tterfdjamten SJngefidjt, 
Slritt fie ttor bid), i|r Urrfjeit $u empfangen; 
©ie acfytet eg, beefy fitrdjtet fie eg ntcfyt 



827 

"Gold must ransom every nation's charter; 

And, like Brennus in those elder days, 
Here his iron sword the Gaul for barter 

In the wavering scale of justice lays ; 

" There his fleets the Briton, rich and mighty, 

Polypus-like, stretches o'er the deep, 
And the kingdom of free AmphitritS 

Closes as his own peculiar keep. 

" To the south-pole's hidden constellations 
In his restless, boundless course he flies — 

To all isles — all coasts of furthest nations — 
All — but only those of Paradise. 

" Vainly o'er the world's wide surface ranging, 
Wouldst thou seek that blessed spot to know, 

"Where bright freedom's verdure smiles unchanging, 
Where life's earliest flowers undying blow. 

" Endless spreads the globe's vast floating mansion, 
Scarce may sail its bulk erformous trace ; 

Yet not all throughout its huge expansion 
Can ten happy beings find a place. 

" To the heart's still chamber— deep and lonely — 
Must thou flee from life's tumultuous throng. 

Freedom in the land of dreams is only, 
And the Beauteous blooms alone in song." 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



FAREWELL TO THE READER. 

A maiden blush o'er every feature straying, 
The muse her gentle harp now lays down here, 

And stands before thee, for thy judgment praying, — 
She waits with reverence, but not with fear ; 



328 

T)t$ ©it ten SBctfatC tt>itnf<$t fte git erfangen, 
£)en SBatyr^eit rittjrr, ben glimmer nid^t fcejttdjt; 
9htr totnx tin iperg, empfanglid) fit* bag ©djone, 
3m S3ufert fd)lagt, ift ttertl), bag er fte frone* 

SRidjt langer tuollett biefe Sieber leoen, 

9LU Ms i|r $(cmg ein fiil)lenb ^>erg erfreut, 

Sftit fcfyonern $ljantafteett e$ nmge&en, 

3u Ijoljeren ©efitfylen eS gemeiljt; 

Qux fernen Sftacfyrcelt mollen fte nidjt fcfymefcen, 

@te tonren, fte ^er^attert in ber 3eit 

©e^ ShtgenMideS Suft §at fte geboren, 

@ie fliefyen fort im leic^ten Zan% ber £oreiu 

£)er Seng erwadjr, anf ben ertoarmten £riften 
©d)ie§t frotjeg 2e6en jugenblicfy Ijersor, 
£)ie ©taube witrjt bie Suft mit 9?eftarbitften, 
3)en £immel ptttt eirt mmttrer ©attgercfyor, 
Unb 3«^5 uttb 2llt ergef)t fid) in ben Sitften, 
Unb frenet ftd) nnb fd)welgt mit Sing 1 nnb £%♦ 
£)er Sertj entfliefyt! Die 23tnme fdjiejjt in ©amen, 
Unb feine bleibt »on alien, meldje famen* 



328 

Her last farewell for his kind smile delaying, 

Whom splendor dazzles not, who holds truth dear. 
The hand of him alone whose soaring spirit 
Worships the Beautiful, can crown her merit. 

\ ' 

These simple lays are only heard resounding, 

While feeling hearts are gladdened by their tone, 
With brighter fantasies their path surrounding, 

To nobler aims their footsteps guiding on. 
Yet coming ages ne'er will hear them sounding, 

They live but for the present hour alone ; 
The passing moment called them into being, 
And, as the hours dance on, they, too, are fleeing. 

The spring returns, and nature then awaking, 
Bursts into life across the smiling plain ; 

Each shrub its perfume through the air is shaking, 
And heaven is filled with one sweet choral strain ; 

While young and old, their secret haunts forsaking, 
With raptured eye and ear rejoice again. 

The spring then flies, — to seed return the flowers, 

And nought remains to mark the vanished hours. 

Edgar Alfred Bowring. 



SEMELE, 



TWO SCENES. 



(329) 



3uno. 

@emele, *Prm$effm son S^efcem 
Suptter. 
?}?ercur. 
JDie £anbhmg tfl im $dafle be3 5Tabmu$ ju S^e&en. 



(330) 



DBAMATIS PEESONJ1. 



Juno. 

Semele, Princess of Thebes. 

Jupiter. 

Mercurius. 

THE SCENE IS ENACTED IN THE PALACE OF KING 
CADMUS, OF THEBES. 



(330) 



^rfle £cene. 

J)ltn0 

(flefgt aixi tyrem SBageit, son etner 2DoIfe untfle&en). 

£tntoeg ben gefliigelten SBagen, • 
$fauen 3uno3, ertoartet rnetn 
2luf (£itf)aron3 roolftgtem (SHpfet* 

(SBagen unb 2BoIfe serfdjwtnben.) 

^>a, fet gegritgt, £au3 meine3 grauen 3onte3! 

©ei grtmmig mir gegritgt, fembfeltg T)afy f 

23er§a§te3 $>flafter! — £ier alfo bte ©tatte, 

2Bo ttuber metnen %qtu$ 3nptter 

3m 2lngeftd)t beS feuf^en £age$ freoelt! 

£ier, n?o ein SBeifc ftdj, eine ©terMid^e, 

(5rfred)t, ein ftaubgebitbetes ©efcfyopf, 

2)en £)onnerer cms meinem $rm ju fdjmetdjetn 

2In tf)ren Sippen i^tt gefangen tyalt! 

3uno! 3uno! (Sinfam 

®te$|i bu, fte^ft sertaffen 

2htf beS £>immel$ £f)ron! 

Sfteicfyttdj bampfen bie 2Htare, 

Unb bir fceugt ftd) jebes $nie* 

H*a3ijt of)ne£teBe(£f)re? 

2BaS ber pummel of)ne fte? 

SBetje, beinen ©totg §u Beugen, ' 
Sftufte $enu$ cms bem ©djaume jietgen ! 
©otter Mfyorte, 

9ftenfdjen unb ©otter tt)r ^auBrifdjer 23fitf ! 
SBefye, beinen ®ram ^u meljren, 
Sftuft 1 £>ermione geBaren, 
Unb semidjtet ift bein ©littfl 
(331) 



FIKST SCENE. 

JUNO. 

(Steps out of her phaeton, enveloped in a cloud.) 

Away with the winged chariot, 
Await me, birds of Juno, 
Upon Cithseron's cloudy summit. 

(Chariot and clouds disappear.) 

Hail ! habitation of my ancient wrath ! 
I greet thee with fierce anger, hostile roof, 
Oh, hated pavement ! Here it is, 
"Where Jupiter, in the chaste light of day, 
Most foully sins against my nuptial bed I 
And where a woman bold, 
A creature made of dust, 
Entices Zeus away from my embraces, 
And holds him chained to her own lips ! 
Juno, Juno, now thou art 
Forsaken and alone 
Upon Heaven's throne ! 

Incense rises from my altars, 
Every knee adores me ; 

Is there honor where love falters ? 
There's no heaven without thee. 

"Woe, my pride to bend, 
Yenus had to ascend 
From ocean's foam. 
Her enchanting glance 
Insnared gods and men ; 
My grief to enhance 

A daughter was vouchsafed to Hermione, 
Who ruined my bliss and sullied my throne ! 
(331) 



332 

23tn id) nidjt giirftin ber ©otter? 
*ftid)t Sdjftefter beg £>onnererg, 
9tid)t bie ©attin beg f)errfdjenben 3^? 
3lecf>sen ntd)t bie 2ld)fen beg ipimmelg 
9)?einem ©ebot? Umranfdjt nidjt meitt £anpt bie 

ot^mptfdje $rone? 
&a, id) fiifjle ntidj! 

^ronog' Slut in beit nnjterbtidjen Sfbern, 
ilonigftdj fd)nnttt mein gottlidjeg £er^ 

©oil fte mid) nngeftraft fdjmafjen? 
Ungeftraft nnter bie erotgen ©otter 
SBerfen ben <Streit, nnb bie (£rtg mfen 
3n ben frof)Itdjen fytmmltfdjen <3aal? 
Sitfe! 23erge(fenel 

(5ttrb nnb (erne am ftygifdjen ©tront 
©ottlid)eg nnter fdjeiben yon trbifd)em ®tano! 
£)eine SRiefenriiftnng maQ bid) erbritcfen, 
Sftieber bid) fd)mettern 
£>eine ©otterfnd)U 

9iad)egepangert 
(Steig' idj som Ijofjen Dl^mpng ^erafc* 
©iife, serftridenbe, 
®d)meidjelnbe Sfteben 
$aV idj erfonnen; 
£ob nnb 55erberoen 
Sanern baruu 

£ordj, tfjre Sritte! 
©ie nat)t! 

yiafy bent <3tnr$, bem gettiffen SBerberben ! 
23er§nfte bidj, ©otttyeit, in fterblidj ©ettanb! 

(<Sie fie^t afc.) 



332 

Am I not the queen of the gods? 

The Thunderer's sister, 

The spouse of the great ruler, Zeus ? 

Do not the Heavens revolve 

By my command ? Does not the Olympian choir 

Whirl round my brow ? 

Ha, my blood is up ! 

The blood of Chronos in the immortal veins. 

My queenly heart swells proudly in my bosom, — 

Eevenge ! revenge ! 

Is no punishment to be meted out to her ? 

Should she vilely disgrace me, 

Sow discord among the eternal gods, 

Amid the joys of their celestial halls ? 

Yain, reckless woman ! 

Die, and learn beyond the Styx 

The power of gods, the nothingness of mortal dust I 

Thy giant-coat shall weigh thee down, 

Thy soaring pride 

Shall crush thee ! 



Armed with vengeance 

I leave Olympus' lofty heights, 

Sweetly-enticing, 

Flattering discourse 

Have I contrived ; 

Death and destruction 

Are lurking in my speech. 

Hearken, her footsteps ! 

She approaches ! 

Certain destruction awaits her ! 

In mortal garb I must conceal my godlike form ! 

(Exit.) 



333 

j^emel* (ruft in Me Scene.) 

Die (Sonne netgt jtdj fdjott ! Sungfranett, etlt. 
Durcfyroiirgt ben ©aal mit fitgert 2lmDrabiiftett, 
©treut 5tofen unb 5^arciffen ringg nmfter, 
25ergegt au$ nid)t ba3 golbgeioeote ^olfter — 
Sr fommt no$ nicfyt — bie ^onne ttetgt ftc^ fc^on 

^Utl0 (in ©efiatt einer 31 U e n fcereinfttirjenb), 

©etooet feien bie ©otter, meine Jotter 1 

£ e tn e 1 e. 
£a! 2Ca^' idj? Sranm' i<$? ©otter! 33eroe! 

<2ouV i^re atte 2Imme Semete 
SSergejfen §aoen? 

jS'emele. 

S5eroeI 23eim 3 e "^' 
2a§ an mein iper^ bid) britden — beine Jotter! 
£>n lefrft? SBas fitfcrt oon (Spibaurnei bid) 
ipie^er 311 mir? S3ie leoft bn? £)n oifi bod) 
S^oct) immer meine Gutter? 

J* una. 

Deine Gutter! 
(5§ nannteft bn mid) fo. 

JSemele. 
£)n bift e$ no$, 
SSMrfTs Bleiften, Bis son 2etf)e3 £anmeltranf ■ 
3$ trnnfen bin. 

53alb totrb »o§l 23eroe 
SSergeffen^eit an» 2etf)e$ SBeflen trinfen; 
Die £od)ter ^atmn* 1 trinft oom £etfye ntdjt 

Petite If. 
2Bie, meine (Butt^ Siatyfetyap toar fonji - 



333 

SEMELE (calling behind the scenes). 

The sun is setting ! hasten, maids, 

And with ambrosial fragrance fill the hall ! 

Strew roses and narcissi round about ; 

Be mindful of the gold-embroidered cushion I 

He comes not ; the sun is setting fast. 

JUNO (hastily entering in the form of an old woman). 

The gods be praised ! my daughter ! 

SEMELE. 

Gods ! Beroe ! Is this a dream ? 

JUNO. 

Could Semele's old nurse 
Forget her ? 

SEMELE. 

Beroe ! By Zeus ! 
Fly to my heart — thy daughter ! 
Thou livest ? What brings thee hither 
From Epidaurus ? livest thou 
And art thou still my mother ? 



I was so formerly. 



JUNO. 

Thy mother ? 

SEMELE. 



Thou art so still, 
And shalt remain so, until Lethe's stream 
Intoxicates me. 

JUNO. 

Soon thy Beroe 
Will drink forgetfulness in Lethe's waves ; 
But Cadmus' daughter drinks not in this stream. 

SEMELE. 

What, oh, kind nurse ! In former times 
49 



334 



9He betne 0lebe, nte getjetmmgttou'; 

$Der ©eift ber grauen £aare fprid)t au3 bir; 

3$ toerbe, fag ft bu, Settyes Sranf ntcfyt f often* 

J una. 
<So fagt' tdj, ja! 2Ba<3 aber fpotteft bu 
£)er grauen £aare? — gretlid) fyaUn fte 
9tod) feinen ©ott beftrtcfet, n?ie bie blonben! 

kernel*. 
SBerjeitj ber Unbefonnenen! 2Bie toouT id) 
£)er grauen £aare fpotten? SBerben motyt 
£)te meinen eang blonb t>om Sftaiien fttegen ? 
2Ba$ aber war's, bas ^nufdjen beinen Stynen 
£)u murmelteft? — Sin ©ott? 

Jl u u a. 

©agt' \§, em ©ott? 
*ftun ja, bte ©otter ttotjnen liberal!! 
@ie an^ufleljn fte^t fdjttadjen 9ttenfd)en f$on» 
£)ie ©otter ftnb, mo bu bift — ©emele! . 
2Ba$ fragft bu mid) ? 

ji» e m t I e. 
23o3t)afteS £er$! £>odj fprtd); 
2Ba$ fiityrte bid) tton (SpibauruS fyer? 
£)a$ bo$ toofyl ntdjt, bag gern bie ©otter too^tten 
Urn ©ernele? 

JJ u tt 0. 
23eim 3uptter, nur bas! 
2CeI(^ $euer futjr in beinen SBangen auf, 
TO td) bas 3 upiter ausfyradj? — 9li<fyt$ anberS 
TO jenes, meine £ocfyter ■ — ©djredlidj ra£t 
2)te $eft an (gpibaurus, tb'btenb ©tft 
3ft jeber fyaufy, nnb jeber Slt^em nmrget; 
£)en ©o^n tterbrennt bte Gutter, feine 23raut 
2)er ©rauttgam, bie feuerflammenben 



834 

Thy speech was plain, not vailed in mystery ; 

The spirit of old age possesses thee ; 

I'm not to drink, say'st thou, of Lethe's stream ? 

JUNO. 

I said so, yes ! Why scornest thou 

My hair ? Because its snow-white locks * 

Have not bewitched a god like thy fair tresses ? 

SEMELE. 

Forgive my indiscretion ! Could I scorn 
Thy own gray hair ? Alas ! will mine 
Forever and unchanged flow down my neck ! 
What mutteredst thou between thy lips ? A god ? 

JUNO. 

The gods live everywhere ; 'tis well 
For feeble mortals to implore them, — 
The gods are where thou art, my Semele I 
Why ask'st thou me ? 

SEMELE. 

Malicious heart ! But speak : 
What led thy steps from Epidaurus hither ? 
Is it because the gods delight to dwell 
Near Semele ? 

JUNO. 

It is, by Jupiter ! 
What fire seemed to inflame thy cheeks 
When I said Jupiter ? — nothing less, 
My daughter. A frightful epidemic 
Spreads fatal poison through our city's homes, 
And every breath is pregnant with destruction. 
The mother burns her son, the flames 
Devour the bride and her betrothed ; 



335 



^oTjjlof c ma$en Sag au$ Sftttternadjt, 
Urtb Jltagen tyeulen raftloS in bte Suft; 
UniiBerfd)tt?anglid) ift bas $3ety! — Sntruftet 
SBlitft 3 eu ^ <twf nnfer armeS SSoIf f)eraB; 
SBergeBenS ftromt itjm DpferBlut, oergeBenS 
Bermartert am TOare feirte $nie 
£)er $riefter, tauB tft unferm gfetjtt fein D$r — 
£)rum fanbt 1 ju .ftabmus 1 $onig3tod)ter micfj 
SD^ein fee^Majret Saterlanb, oB tdj 
$on tfjr erBitten fonnte, fcinert ©rimm 
5Sott una gu toenben — Seroe, bie tome, 
©tft fciet, gebadjten fie, Bet ©emelen • — Bet 3^u3 
©tft (Semele fo otel — me^r tt>et^ id) nidjt, 
SSerjle^ nod) roeniger, toas fte bamit 
Sebeuten : ©emele oermag Bet 3>m$ fo oiel* 

& e ttt e I e $ef«8 unb sergeJTen). 

£)te $efl toirb morgen toetdjen — fag's bem 35 oil! 
3eus3 lieBt midj! fag's I $eut muf bie $eft nodj toeidjen ! 

3 U tt (auffafjrenb, ntit ©tautten). 

£a ! tft e$ toafyr, toas taufenbatingiges ©erii$t 
23om 3ba Bis %um ipamuS §at geplaubert? 
3euS lieBt bid)? 3^^ 9™§t bid) in alter $radjt, 
SBorin beS ipimmels 23itrger tfjn Beftautten, 
2Bemt in ©aturniaS Umarmnngen er ffrtft? — 
Sajjt, ©otter, lafjt bie grauen £aare nnn 
3um DrfnS fatjren — fart JjaB 1 tdj geleBt — 
3n feiner ©otterprad)t fteigt Cronos' grower <Sofjtt 
Qu tf)r, $u tfjr, bie einft an biefer 23rujt 
©etrunfen f)at — gu tf)r — 

kernel e. 

D 23eroe! @r fam, 
@in fdjoner SungUng, reigenber, aU feiner 



335 

The lurid pile transforms the hideous night 
Into a horrid day, and ceaseless grief 
Howls through the air. What nameless woe ! 
The fiercely angered Zeus strikes down our people. 
In vain we slaughter hecatombs to Zeus ; 
The priestly knee upon the altar bleeds. 
The God is deaf to all our supplications ; 
Therefore it is that my woe-stricken race 
Sends me to thee, the daughter of King Cadmus, 
With humble prayers, to intercede with Zeus, 
And to appease the exterminating wrath. 
They thought that Beroe' had power with Semele, 
And that her Semele has so much power with Zeus. 
I know no more, and understand still less 
This speech : that Semele has so much power with 
Zeus. 

SEMELE {vehemently and forgetting herself). 

The plague shall cease to-morrow ; let the people know 
Zeus loves me ; even now the plague shall cease ! 

JUN"0 {starting up, amazed). 

What ! Is this gossip true which spreads 
With thousand tongues from Ida until Hsemus ? 
Zeus loves thee ? greets thee in all the pomp 
In which Heaven's denizens admire him, 
And Juno clasps him to her loving heart ? 
Now, gods, I pray that this, my own gray hair, 
Descend to Orcus ! I have lived to know, 
That Chronos' son, in all his godlike splendor, 
Came down to her whose infant-life 
My breast has nursed. 

SEMELE. 

Oh, Beroe ! he came 
A youth with fascinating beauty crowned, 



336 

Auroras ©djoof entfloffen, parabteftfdj renter, 
%U £efperug, toenn er fcalfamifcfy tyaudjt, 
3n 2Ieu)erjTutIj bie ©lieber eingetaucfyt, 
SBott (Srttft feirt ©cmg unb majeftatlfdj, tote 
£9perion£, toenn itodjer, $feir unb 23ogen 
Die ©tfyultern nteberfdjtoirren, it)ie 
SSom Dcean ftdj l)eBen ©ilkrtoogen, 
2luf*9ftatenlitften fyinten nacfygejTogen 
©ein SicMgeroanb, bie ©timme Sittelobte, 
2Bte ©Ufcerflang au3 flteg enben ^rtyftatfen — 
gntaiicfertber, al$ SDrpljeus 1 ©aiten flatten — 

£al nteine Softer! — Die 23egeifteruttg 

(Srtyefct- betn iperg gum tyelifon 1 fd)en ®d)toung! 

SBiemuj? bas£6ren fern! toie tytmmetoott ba$ 23ItcfenJ 

SBernt (d)ort bie fterbenbe ©rintterung 

S3on ^tnnett ritcft in belpljifdjem (SntgutJen? — 

2Bie aBer? ©cfytoeigft bu mir 

Das ^oftbarfte? ^ronion^ tyocfyjte 3ter, 

Die SDZajeftat auf rotten Donnerfeilen, 

Die burd) gerriffne SGoIfett eilen, 

SBittji bu mir geigig fcfytoeigen? — SieBeretg 

Sftag aufy $)romett)eu3 urtb Deufatton 

SBerliefyen fyabtTi — Conner toirft nur 3 e "^l 

Die Donner, bie gu beirten gitfjen 

Sr niebertoarf, bie Donner [tub t$ nur, 

Die gu ber £errlid)ften auf (Srben bidj gemacfyt — 

kernel*. 

2Bie, toas [agft bu? £ier ift son fetnen Donnern 
Die 3ftebe» — 

Jl U tt (Iff$elttb). 

©emele! 2utdj ©emergen fle^t bir jcpn! 



336 

And with celestial purity and fragrance, 

As Hesperus exhales, or flows from Eos' bosom. 

His limbs seemed bathed in Ether's sparkling flood ; 

Hyperion's gait and his majestic frown, 

When bow and arrow from his shoulders quiver ; 

Or like the swelling wave with silvery crown. 

His shining robe was borne on Zephyr's wings ; 

His voice melodious like a crystal's murmur, 

More ravishing than god-like Orpheus sings. 

JUNO. 

Ah, daughter ! thy ecstatic lyre. 

Inspires thy heart with Heliconian fire ! 

"What melody his voice ! what heavenly bliss his glance ! 

If thus thy memory-fed desire 

With Delphian pathos can thy soul entrance ! — 

And now, wouldst harshly thou conceal 

The glories which the God reveal ? 

The lightning-flashes and the thunder, 

That fiercely rend the clouds asunder ? 

Deucalion and Promethelis 

May grant a love as sweet. 

The thunderbolts belong to Zeus ; 

He laid them at thy feet, 

And made thee queenly more 

Than any queen that woman ever bore. 

SEMELE. 

What sayest thou ? no thunderbolts he wielded I 



Befits thee well. 



JUNO {smiling). 

Ah ! this jest 



337 



£ t m 1 1 e. 

(So $immltf$, tote tnein Jupiter, mar no$ 

$ein <Sof)tt Deufalion* — son £>onnern »ei jjj t<$ nt$ts I 

J una. 
31! giferfufy! 

$ e m t i t. 

Stein, 53eroe! 23eim 3^3! 

J una. 

£)u fc^toorji? 

$ e m e 1 1. 
33eim 3 eu »- S5ei tneinem 3 e ^! 

JUJ10 (f$reieni>). 

£>u j$toorfi? 
Ungtttcfli^e! 

$' t m 1 1 1 (angfttt$). 

$3ie tt>irt) t>ir? ©eroe! 

^ UtX0. 

(Spring nodj etttmat, bag 2Bort, bag jur STenbeften 
2Iuf Seftud' gan$em gtofjen £ftnnb fctdj madjt! — 
2>erlorenel Dag war tttdjt 3 e "^i 
3 1 nt e 1 *♦ 

Jj UU0. 

Sin li {tiger 23etriiger 
5Tug SIttifa, ber unter ©otteg Saroe 
£>tr Sfjtfe, Sdjam unb Unfdmib toegoetrog! — 

(Sentefe ftnft urn.) 

3a (iitrj' mir Ijttt! ©tef)' erctg niemalg aufl 
Sag eto'ge 9ca&t bein Sidjt oerfdjlingen, lag 
Urn bein ©et)6r fid) lagern eto'ge ©title! 
S3leib etoig §ier, em gelfenjaden, fleoen! — 
D ©dsanbe.! (Edjanbe! bie ben hutytn Xag 
Suriicf in £efateg Umarmung fdjleubert! 

emitter* fammtl. SBerle. L 22 



337 



SEMELE. 

None of Deucalion's sons 
Claim Jupiter's high beauty; he came without his 
lightning. - 

JUNO. 

Thou art jealous ! 

SEMELE. 

No, Beroe ! by Zeus ! 

JUNO. 

Thou swearest ? 

SEMELE. 

By Zeus ! by my own Zeus ! 

JUNO {shrieking). 

Thou swearest ? 
Oh, wretch ! 

SEMELE (anxiously). 

What ails thee, Beroe ? 

JUNO. 

Thy speech has made thee wretched more 
Than any wretched woman on this earth I 
Deluded one, this was not Zeus ! 

SEMELE. 

Not Zeus ? 
Oh, horrible ! 

JUNO. 

A cunning cheat 
From Attica, disguised as Zeus, 
'And robbing thee of honor, shame, and virtue. 

(Semele falls down.) 

Yes, fall and never rise again ! 
Let night surround thee ; let eternal silence 
Hide from thy ear this wicked, foul deception I 
Be cold and hard like this projecting rock ! 
Oh, shame ! The chaste day may forever now 
Flee back to Hecate's embraces. 



338 



@o, © otter! ©otter! fo mu§ 23eroe 

9lac^ fecfege^rt fdjrcer burd)lebten Srennungsja^rett 

Die £od)ter ^abmug' toieberfefynl — grofytocfenb 

3og id) oon Spibaurus §er; — mit ©djam 

SSftug id) guriicf nad) (£pibauru<3 fcfjren. — 

SScr^ttjeiflung bring 1 id) mit! £5 Summer! £)mein5SoI!! 

XHe $eft mag rufyig bi3 jur ^roeiten Ueberfcfytoemmung 

gortrcittfjen, mag mit aufgebaumten £eid)en 

!Den Deta itbergipfeln, mag 

®an$ @ried)enlanb in ein ©ebeinfjauS manbetn, 

(S§ ©emete ben ©rimm ber ©otter beugt 

23etrogen id) unb bu nnb ©riedjenlanb unb atfe$! 

(rtd)tet ftd) jttternb auf unb ftrecft etttcn 5lrm nadj t&r au$). 

D meine 25eroe! 

JJuna. 

©rmnntre bid), mein ^erj! 
2Mettetd)t i(l'« 3eu*l 23at)rfd>einfid) bocfy »o$I nt<$t! 
23ietfeid)t i|T$ bennodj 3 e us! 3^t mitffen loir's er* 

faf)ren ! 
3£t mnf er jtdj entfjutfen, ober bu 
glie^ft etoig feine ©pur, gibft ben 31bfdjeulidjen 
2)er ganjen £obe3rad)e £I)eben3 preis* — 
©cfyau, tfyeure Softer, auf — fd)au beiner 23eroe 
3n$ 5lngefid)t, bag fpmpatfyettfd) bir 
©idj offnet — w often toir tyn nidjt 
Serfudjen, ©emele? 

$ t m 1 1 1. 
Sftetn, foi ten ©ottern! 
3$ tourb' i§tt bamt nid)t fmben — 

S3itrbejt bu 
2Bo$I minber elenb fein, toenn bu in bangen 3toeifeItt 
gortfd)mad)teteft — un'D toenn er'$ bennod) toare — 



338 

Thus, after years of painful separation, 
Must Beroe again meet Cadmus' daughter ! 
"With joyful heart I came from Epidaurus, 
Despairing I return to my cursed home. 
Oh, wretchedness ! oh, grief not to be borne I 
This plague may last until a second flood 
Destroys us, and the piled-up corpses 
O'ertop Oeta and transform whole Greece 
Into a charnel-house. Semele will never 
Appease the gods and their terrific wrath. 
I am deceived, thou art, Greece is, we all are I 

SEMELE. 

(Rises tremblingly, stretching out an arm toward her.) 

Oh, Beroe ! 

JUNO. 

Take courage, Semele I 
It may be Zeus I It may be some one else I 
then we shall know it now I 
or else 

Thou fleest his sight, and Thebes' relentless fury 
Shall visit with revenge this heartless monster. 
Look up, dear daughter, and in Beroe 's eyes 
Behold her sympathizing heart. 
Let us try him ! 

SEMELE. 

No, by the Gods ! 
I should not find him then. 

JUNO. 

"Wouldst thou 
Less wretched be, if doubt 
Devoured thy soul ? It may be he. 



339 



15 £ m t i t (wrttrflt iai £au|>t in Surw 1 * ©ifjoojj). 

81$! (Sr tft'3 nid)t! 

Jttt tt 0. 

ttnb jtdj in atlem ©anj, 
SBorin ifjn ber Dfympus je gefetyn, 
£)tr ft($tbar ftetXte ? — ©emele! ttn'e nun? 
3)ann fotfte bidjfs gereuen, i§n serfucfyt 
3u tyaben? 

J^emele (auffaSrenb). 

£a! enttyittten mug er ftdjl 

Jj U tt (fanefl). 

©5 barf er nidjt in beine 2lrme finfen — 
(gntfyutten mug er ftdj — Drum pre, guteg $lnb! 
2Ba3 bir bie rebfidj treue %mmt taffy, 
2Ba3 £ieoe mir i£t gugelifpelt, Siebe 
SMoringen tturb — ftridj, nurb er Mb erfdjeinen? 

§& t m 1 1 e. 
g§ nodj £>9perion in Setts' 23ette fteigt, 
Serfprad) er $u erfcfyeinen — 

Jl U n (iiergeffett, ^eftig). 

2Birfiicr)? £a! 
SSerfprat^ er? tyeut f$on fcieber! (gagtji*.) Sag i$n 

fommen, 
Uub toeun er eBen lieBeStrunfen nun 
SBte 5trme auseinanber fdjlingt nadj bir, 
@o trittft bu — merf bir'3 — n>ie yom 33U£ 
©erii^rt, jurud £>a! tine er ftaunen toirb! 
5ftid)t lange laffeft bu, mein $inb, t§tt ftaunen; 
£)u fcifyrft fo fort, mit froft'gen (£ife3blicfen 
3§n tr-egjuftogen — ttitber, feuriger 
33eftitrmt er btdj — bie ©probigfeit ber ©djonen 
3ft nur ein T)amm, ber einen SHegenftrom 
3uritifepreg t, unb ungeftumer ^ratten 



339 

SEMBLE {hiding her head in Juno's bosom). 

It is not he ! 

JUNO. 

He may reveal himself 
To thee in his Olympian splendor ! 
What then, oh Semele ! would st thou regret 
This trial of his life-preserving power ? 

SEMELE (starting up). 

Yes, Beroe, he shall reveal himself ! 

JUNO (quickly). 

He must not sink into thy arms, unless 
Revealed in all his glory. Hear, my child, 
The counsel of thy nurse, love's whisper. 
Love will strengthen thee to do 
What I advise. When will he come ? 

SEMELE. 

He promised to appear ere into Thetis' bed 
Hyperion shall descend — 

JUNO (forgetting herself, vehemently). 

He did ? indeed ? 

To COme again ? This day ? (Recovering herself.) Ah, let 

him come ! 
And if, intoxicated by his maddening love, 
He seeks to win thee with his outstretched arms, 
Recede as if the lightning's dart 
Had struck thee. How he will stare ! 
Let him stare ! But thou, with cunning mind, 
Keep up the game, and with an icy look 
Repel him. With passion wilder still 
Will he assail thee. Woman's modesty 
Is like a dam against a rushing torrent. 



340 

Die gTutljett an — Sfjt fjeoft bn an ju toemett — 

©tganten mod)t' er ftefyrt, modjt' rufyig n ieberf djaun, 

SSenn Zypfyutf ljunbertarmiger ©rimm 

Den Djfa unb Olpmp nadj fetnem £rotf)ron jagte — 

Die £I)ranen einer (Bdjonen fatten 3 e «^ — 

Du lac^elft? — ©elt! bie @#ulerin 

3(i toeifer tyter als i$re SD^eifterin ? — 

9?un Mtteft bn ben ©ott, bir eine Heine, Heine, 

Unfdjufb'cje SBittc jn gewa^ren, bie 

Dir feine £ieb' nnb ©ott^eit ftegeln fotftc — 

Sr fd&mort'S fceim ©tpy! — Der <&tyv$attyna,tbanntl 

(Sntfcfrtiipfen barf er nimmermeljr! Du fpricfyft: 

„©§ fottft bn biefen £eio nicfyt I often, Ms 

„3n alter $raft, tr-orin bidj Cronos 1 Softer 

„Umarmt, bn jn ber Jotter $abmu^ ftetgefH" 

£a§ bice's nicfrt fcfyrecfen, ©emele, ftmn er 

Die ©rauen feiner ©egentr-art, bie geuer, 

Die nm if)n tvafytn, bir bie Donner, bie 

Den ^ommenben umrolten, ^n spopanjen 

2lufftetlen tr-irb, ben 2Bunfdj bir gu entleiben: 

Da3 jtnb nnr leere <5djreden, (Semele — 

Die ©otter tfjutt mit biefer ^errlidjften 

Der iperrlicfyfeiten gegen SD"^enfcr)ert farg — 

23ef)arre bn nnr ftarr anf beiner 23itte, 

Unb Suno fel&ft ttirb neibifd) anf btdj fdjielen. 

g t m 1 1 e. 

Die ipagli^e mit tfjren Odjfenaugen! 
G£r ^at mir'3 oft im 2htgenbltcf ber SieBe 
©eflagt, trie fie mit i^rer fc^n?ar3en ©atte 
3^n martere — 

JllllJ (ergrimmt, sjertegeit Bet <Sette). 

£a! SBurm! ben £ob fur biefen £o$n! 



340 

It waxes fiercer. Now begin to weep. 

He may have smitten the giants, may have seen 

"With unmoved eye, how Briareus 

Rolled mountains toward the eternal throne — 

To beauty's tears Zeus vows allegiance. 

Thou smilest ? Ah, thy cunning far 

Surpasses all the wisdom of thy teacher. 

Then beg the god to grant a childish prayer, 

And seal his godhead and his love to thee. 

He'll swear by Styx ; the frightful oath 

Irrevocably binds him. Then say thou : 

" Thou canst not have communion with this body, 

Unless thy glory, as enjoyed by Chronos' daughter, 

Ee veals itself to Cadmus' progeny ! " 

Be not afgaid, oh Semele ! if 

Lightning-flashes and the pealing thunder, 

And all the horrid bugbears of his presence 

Are conjured up to hush thy bold desire : 

These are vain terrors, Semele — 

With chary hands the gods to mortal man 

Their splendors measure out. Be firm, 

And persevere in thy request, and Juno ev'n 

May envy thee with squinting eye. 



SEMELE. 

The horrid woman with her oxen eyes ! 
How oft, while cradled in love's heavenly bower, 
Has he complained to me of her black bile, 
How she torments him — 



JUNO (full of wrath, and aside, as if embarrassed). 

"Woman ! Death for thy scorn ! 



341 



SBie? metne 23eroe! — 2Ba$ f)aft bn ba gemnrmeTt? 

JJ U n (uertegen). 

SftidjtS — metne ©emele! £)ie fdjfcarje ©atte qnaft 
5luc^ mi$ — em fdjarfer, ftrafenber SBHcE 
9fln£ oft Bet 23nf)lenben fitr fd)mar$e (SJatfe gelten — 
Unb Dcfyfenangen finb fo ttmfte 2lngen nicfyt 

& t m e 1 e. 
D pfnf bodj, 23eroe! bie garftigften, 
£)ie je in einem ^opfe ftecfen lonnen! 
Unb nodj bagn bie $3angen gelo nnb grnn, 
2>$ gift'gen SfteibeS ftdjtbarlicfye ©trafe — 
^ic^ jammert 3 e u3, baf; ifyn bie ^eiferitt 
SJtit ifyrer efettjaften £iebe leine 9kcfyt 
23erfd)ont nnb ifyren eiferfitdjfgen ©riflen, 
2)a$ mu$ prions 9tab im £immel fein* 
|una 

(in ber auferfien mertoimmg unb 2ButJ> ouf nnb aB rafenfc), ' 

Sftidjts me^r bason! 

3§ e m e I e. 
2Bte, 23eroe! fo Bitter? 
£aB' t$ ttoljT metjr gefagt, aU wa^r ift, me§r, 
SW« ling ift? — 

JJ Utt0. 

9ftel)r fyaft bn gefagt, 
2Ws ttafjr tfi, metyr, aU ling ift, jnnges SBetM 
spreif bid) beglitcft, toenn beine ofanen Slngen 
£)idj nicfyt ^n frit!) in (S^aronS 9kdjen ladjelnl 
<&atuxnia $at andj 5l(taV nnb Ztmpd 
Unb toanbett nnter ©terbltdjen — bie ©ottin 
Sftac^t nidjte fo fefyr, aU tjotjnifd) Sftafenrnmpfen* 

^entfh. 
©ie ttanbte §ier nnb fei bes £of)ne$ 3^3^ 



341 



SEMELE. 

What ? Bero'e ! what was thy murmuring speech ? 

JUNO (embarrassed). 

Nothing, my Semele ! Black bile 
Torments me too — a keen and piercing glance 
Must often seem black bile to cooing lovers — 
And oxen eyes are not so frightful either. 

S SEMELE. 

Oh, fie ! More hideous eyes could not be made to stare 

in human skulls ! 
And green and yellow cheeks, the horrid hues 
Of poisonous envy ! Ah, I pity Zeus, 
Whom this most loathsome scold 
Torments night after night with her embraces, 
And watches with capricious jealousy. 
Worse punishment in Heaven than Ixion's wheel. 

JUNO. 

(Storming up and down in extreme rage, and confusion.) 

Leave off! 

SEMELE. 

Why, Beroe, so bitter ? 
Have I said more than is discreet and true ? 

JUNO. 

Much more than is discreet ; 

Yea, more than true. Praise thy good luck 

If thy blue eyes do prematurely not 

Lead thee, to Charon's bark ! 

Saturnia loves her altars and her temples, 

And watches them with jealous care — 

No fouler crime she hates than scornful slight. 

SEMELE. 

Let her appear and witness my derision I 
50 



342 



28a3 tummerfs mi$? — 9ftetn 3upiter Befd&ufct 

3Kir jebe* £>aar, tt>a£ fann mir 3uno fcfyaben? 

£)od) lag nnS bason fcfytoeigen, 23eroe! 

3eu3 mnfj mir §eute nod) in fetner tyxatyt erf^einen, 

Unb toenn (Satnrnia baroo ben $fab 

3um £)rht$ ftnben [elite — 

|un0 (Brifett). 

Dicfen $fab 
SBirb erne 2Inbre motjt nodj oor itjr ftnben, 
$3enn \t ein SH| fronton* trifft! — 

(3u <S erode.) 

3a, <5emete, fte mag oor 9teib ^erBerftert, 

33enn ^abmus' Softer, ©rtecfyentanb gnr <B$au, 

£od) im £rinmpt)e jum ClpmpuS fteigt! — 

& * m £ 1 1 (leifyfertlfl Ia$elnb). 

9Jtanjt bn, 
SD^an tterb 1 in ©riedjenfanb son ^abrnns' Softer 

pren? 

^ Utt0. 

£a! oB man an$ oon ©ibon Bis 2tt§en 

SSott etnem SInbern f>oret! <5emele! 

©otter, ©otter rcerben ftd) oom £immel neigen, 

©otter sor btr nieberfnien, 

©tcrblicbc in bemut^oollem Sc^roetgen 

23or be6 9tiefentobter3 23rant jtdj Bengen 

Unb in aitternber Sntfernung 

$ e m 1 1 1 

(frifd) auf^upfenD, i&r urn ten $aU fallenb). 

23eroe! 
JJ an 
(Strigfeiten — grauen SSetten 
SBirb'Sein metier 9ft arm or metben: 
ipier sere^rt 1 man (gamete! 
(gemete, ber gvauen fdjonfte, 



342 

"What do I care ? — My Jupiter protects 

My every hair ; what harm can Juno do me ? 

But why this idle talk, my Beroe ! 

In all his glory Zeus appears to me 

This very day, despite Saturnia's ire, 

Ev'n though unto the realm of Stygian shades 

Her jealous heart should plunge her — 

JUNO (aside). 

If ever 
Jove's lightning strikes its victim, then 
Some other form will wander on this path 
Before her ! — 

(To Semele.) 

Yes, Semele, let envy swell her heart, 

"When Cadmus' daughter, in the sight of Greece, 

Makes her triumphal ascent to Olympus ! — 

SEMELE (with a careless smile). 

Thinkest thou that Cadmus' daughter will 
Be known in Greece ? 

JUNO. 

Erora Sidon to Athense, 
Will aught more glorious strike the enchanted ear ? 
Earthward will the gods incline, 
Bend their knees before thee ; 
Men will worship at thy shrine, 
With flowering wreaths their brows entwine, 
"When the thunderer's bride they see — 

SEMELE (starling up, and embracing her). 



Beroe ! 



JUNO. 

Eternities and nascent worlds 
Will read on marble monuments, 
Semele was worshiped here ! 
Semele, the queen of women, 



343 

£)te ben £>onnerfd)teuberer 

SSom Dfymp ju ttyren Stiffen 

3ti ben ©taufc tjerunter^ang* 
ttnb auf $ama$ taufenbfadj raufdjenben gtitgem 
2Birb'$ Son 9Jleeren flatten unb Braufen »on £itgetn — 

^emelc (auger fic&). 

3>9t§ta! Slpofto !- — SBenn er bodj 
S^ur erfdjiene! 

JJ u n 0. 
Unb auf bcmtpfenben 5lltaren 
SBerben fie btdj gotttidj efyreiu 

$eittel* (fcegetftert). 

Unb ertjoren milt id) fie! 
(Semen ©rimm mit SSitten fotjnen, 
Soften fetnen 33 U£ in Straiten ! 
©titdtidj, glitdltdj mat^en nutt tdj fie! 

|utlO (»»r ftd)). 

2trme3 £)tng! ba$ nurjt bu nte* — 

GJta$t>enfettb.) 

S3alb jerfdjmitgt bo$ — garjHg midj gu 

tjetgen ! — 
Stein! £>as 9ftitleib in ben Sartarus! 

(3u Semele.) 

gliefj nur! gttet) nur, metne Stefte, 
2>afi bid) 3eu3 ttt^t merle! Sag itjn lange 
©etner barren, bag er feuriger 
%la&) bir fdjmadjte — 

& e m sic, 
23eroe! ber £tmmet 
£at erforenbidj gu feiner ©timme! 
3$ ©littffePge ! »om Dlgmpus neigen 
SBerben fid) bie ©otter, oor mir nieberlniett 



343 

Who, by her enchanting kisses, 
Forced the king of pealing thunders 
From Olympus down to mortal dust. 
Upon Fama's ever fluttering wing 
Seas and mountains will thy glory ring— 

SEMELE (beside herself). 

Pythia ! Apollo ! — How he tarries I 

JUNO. 

And with fragrant incense will 
Worshipers thy temple fill. 

SEMELE (in ecstasy). 

I will hear their fears, 

Quench his lightning with my tears, 

And appease his wrath. 

I will make them happy. 

JUNO (to herself). 

Poor thing ! Never I 

(Thoughtfully.) 

My heart will melt — but then she called me hideous. 
I fling my pity down to Tartarus ! 

(To Semele.) 

Flee, flee, my love ! 

Away from Zeus ! he must not see thee ! 

Disappointment will inflame him more. 

SEMELE. 

Ha, Beroe ! Thou speakest heaven's command ! 
Earthward will the gods incline, 
Bend their knees before me ; 
Men will worship at my shrine, 



344 



©terBItdje in bemut^aaolfetn (Sdjtt>etgen 

£ag nur — lag icb mug oon Mnnen fliefitt! 

OETCtfttJ 
Jun0 (fiegiaudjjenb £&r nadj&Hcfenb). 

(SdjtoadjeS, jiofges, leicfytfretvogneS SBeib! 
gre([enbe$ geuer feme fdbmadjtenben Slide, 
(Seine $itj[e 3wmalmung, ©ettritterjiurm 
(Seine Umarmung bit I — 9ftenf$lidje Seifce* 
Sftogen nidjt ertragen bie ©egenwart 
2)eg, ber bie Conner toirft! — £a! 

SBenn nun tfjr toadjferner fterMicfyer £eio 

Unter be3 geuertrtefenben Slrmen 

Iftieberfdjmilst, ane &or ber (Sonne ©Iut$ 

$Iocfigter (Sdmee — ber Sftehteibtge, 

(Start ber fanften, nm^armigen 23raut, 

(Seine eignen (Sdjreden umt)al$t — toie frot)(*>tfenb bann 

SCttt id) fjeriioer oom (Sitfjciron toetben mein 2Iuge, 

0htfen fyeriiber, bag in ber ipanb i§m ber £>onnerfetf 

9tteberbeot! $fuibodj! umarme 

9litf)t fo unfanft, (SaturniuS ! 

(<Sie etlt ba«w.) 

(©•Vrnpfcottie.) 



•Der ijortge <Saal. $lb'i3ltc|e $lar§ett» 

S c u $ in Sunfllin^seflalt. SD? e r c u r in ©ntfernung. 
j**U0. 

<Sot)n Sftajas! 

^H e r f U X (fnienb, tntt aefenftem £<ut))t). 

3eu^I 

j*eUS. 

Sfofl Sile! (Seeing' 
£)te gliigel fort nadj be3 (SfamanbetS Uferl 



344 

With flowering wreaths their brows entwine, 
"When the thunderer's bride they see ! 

{Leaves hurriedly.) 
JUNO {looking after her triumphantly). 

Proud woman, and so easily deceived ! 

His languid eye will burn thy frame ! 

And his embrace will crush thee like a tempest. 

No human form can bear his fire ! 

( Transported with rage and delight.) 

And if her perishable, mortal body, 

When hugged by his fierce, fiery arms, 

Should melt like flakes of snow 

Touched by the sun's bright rays ; 

And if the perjured and affrighted god 

Should hug his shadow, not his soft-armed bride — 

Exultingly my eye shall feast, 

And from Cithseron's height 

My voice shall shake his thunderbolt, 

And make him quake ! Oh, fie ! Saturnius, fie ! 

Embrace her not so rudely ! 

{Leaves hurriedly.) 

(Symphony.) 



SECOND SCENE. 

THE FORMER H^LL. SUDDEN BRIGHTNESS. 

Zeus in the form of a youth. Mekcueius at a distance. 

ZEUS. 

Oh, Ma'ia's son ! 

MERCURIUS {kneeling, and inclining his head). 

Zeus! 

ZEUS. 

On Scamander's shore 



345 

£)ort ftjcint am ©raBe fetner <Sc(jaferin 
Sin ©d)dfer — Sftiemanb foil toeinen, 
SBenn ©atimm$ IteBet — 
Sftitf bie &obte ut$ Seoen guritcf* 

.JBetCUt (aafjld&enb). 

£>eine3 ipanpteg ein allmadjtiger SBinf 
fjitfyrt mid) in einem £ui bafytn, juriitJ 
3n einem £nt — 

^ergencfy! 2llS i$ oo SXrgo^ flog, 
$am tt>atfenb mix tin Dpfetbampf entgegen 
2ln£ meinen Sempeln — £>as ergojjte mtdj, 
£)a§ mtcfj bag SSol! fo efyrt — (SrfyeBe betnen glug 
3u (EereS, meiner ©djwejkr — fo fprtcfjt 3eu^J 
3el)ntanfenbfad) foil fie auf funfaig 3>afyr' 
£)en Slrgietn bie ipalmen ttiebergeBen — 

JB c x c u r. 
SCT^it gittcrnber Stle 

SBoUjfretf' idj beinen 3^rn — mit janc^enber, 
SlUoater, beine £nlb ; benn Bollnjt tjT$ 
©en ©ottern, 9ttenfd)en gu Begliicfen ; ^n oetbetBen 
£)ie 9ftenfd)en, tft ben ©ottern (&<fymtxz — ©eBent! 
SBo foil idj il)ten £)anf oor beine Dljren Btingen, 
9>Zieben im ©tcmo ober broBen im ©otterftfc? 

SWebett im ©6ttetft£ ! — 3m $alafte 
Reiner (Semele ! glenclj ! 

(Sflercur ge!>t aft.) 

@fe fommt mir ntcfyt entgegen, 

S3ie fonft, cm il)te toollnftfd)metlenbe S3ruft 
S)en $ontg beg DlpmpnS gn empfangen? 
$3arnm fommt meine (Semele mir nid)t 
©ntgegen? — DebeS— tobtes — granenoolleg (S^toetgen 



345 

A shepherdess is slumbering in her grave ; 
Her shepherd is bedewing it with tears. 
IsTo one shall weep, when Jupiter is happy 
And loves ! Call back her into life ! 



MERCURIUS (rising). 

Omnipotent ! thy nod with lightning-speed 
Sends thither me and brings me back as quickly. 

ZEUS. 

No, tarry ! on my flight past Argos, hither, 

A fragrant incense reached me from my temples ; 

I like to be thus honored by my people. 

Soar to my sister Ceres, with this message : 

From her abundant horn, for fifty years, 

Poor Argos shall be blessed with copious harvests. 

MERCURIUS. 

With trembling haste 

I execute thy anger ; with joyous haste 

Thy merciful commands. 

The gods delight in showering happiness 

Upon mankind ; they grieve at human woe. 

Where shall the outpourings of their grateful hearts 

Be wafted to thine ear ? Below on earth, 

Or in the Olympian hall ? 

ZEUS. 

In Semele's divine abode ; be quick ! 

(Mercurius departs.) 

She does not fly as she was wont to do, 

To meet me, press me to her heaving bosom. 

What desolate and death-like silence 



346 



£errfcBt ringSumljer im etnfamen 3>aTair, 
S)et fenft fo irtit? unb fe baccbanrifcfc larmte — 
.ftein Siifrd)en regt ftc^ — auf (Stt^aronS ©tpfel 
(Stanr fiegfreMecfenb 3uno — ifjrem 3^3 
23ttt Semete ntdjt me§r entgegen eilen 

(3>aufe, cr fa>t auf.) 

£a! fotCtc too^I tie greslertn getragt 

3n meiner Stebe £eiligtbum fid) l)aben? — 

Saturnia — (Ett^aron — t^r £riump!) — 

(Sntfefcen, 2Ibnung ! — Semete ©etrefr! — 

©etroft! 3cb Bin tern 3euS ! ber treggebaud)te £immet 

Soil's lernen: Semele! \§ bin beitt 3 eu ^! 

2Bo tft tie £uft, bie fid) erfred)en tootlte, 

3aaub anjuirefcn, tie 3*u3 bie Seine nennt? — 

2>r SRanfe fport 1 id) — Semele, n?o bift bu? 

£ang fdjutacfotet 1 id), mem toeltbelaftet £aupt 

Sin beinem SBufen $u begraben, metne Sinnen 

2$em trilben Sturm ber SMtregierung eingelutlt, 

Unb 3 U 3^/ Steu'r unb 5Bagen treggetraumt, 

Unb im ®enu§ ber Seligfeit sergangen! 

D 23onneraufd) ! Selbft ©ettern fitter UaumeU 

©iitdfePge £runfenl)eit ! — SBae 1 tft Uranos"' 53Iut, 

©as" 9?eftar unb Slmbrefta, tta3 ift 

£er 2$nm Cl^mpe, bey £tmmete gotbne3 Scepter, 

Sac SMmacH Sangfeif, Unfterblid) kit, eiu ©ott 

C(me Sieoe ? 
Xer Scbafer, ber an feine5 Stroma ©emurmel 
£er Sammer an ber ©attin SBruft sergift, 

25eneibete mtr meine Sink nid)h 
Sie nal)t — fie fcmmt — D §)erle meiner SSerfe, 
S3 e i B ! — Slnguberen ift ber ^iinftler, ber 

£tdj fcfcuf 3$ fdmf bid) — bet 1 mid) an, 

gtus betet an »or 3 e "3, ber bid) erfc§uf ! 



346 

Pervades these gloomy halls, 

Where joyous sounds once pealed in merry chorus ! 

No breath is stirring here ; upon Cithseron's height 

The exultant Juno stood. No longer 

Will Semele be seen to meet her Zeus. 

{Continuing, after a pause.) 

Ha ! has with sacrilegious steps, the goddess 

Invaded love's asylum ? 

Cithaeron — Juno — her triumphant game. 

Ah, what presentiment ! what horrors ! No ! 

Have faith, my Semele I I am thy Zeus ! 

No magic arts shall filch our heavenly bliss ! 

I am thy Zeus ! thou mine ! What zephyr's breath 

Dares rudely touch thy cherished brow ? 

What vile conspiracy ? Where art thou, Semele ? 

How I have longed to rest my weary head 

Upon thy breast, forgetful of the cares 

Of universal reign, divested of its symbols, 

Of sceptre, thunderbolts and royal bird, 

To revel in unutterable bliss ! 

What sweet intoxication ev'n to gods ! 

What is Uranos' blood, what is ambrosial nectar, 

And what Olympus' throne, and what its golden 

sceptre, 
Omnipotence, eternity ; — what are immortal gods 
Without the bliss of love ? 
A shepherd, seated by some murmuring brook, 
His head reclining on his loved one's breast, 
Unmindful of the carols of his flock, 
Would spurn my thunderbolts. 
Behold 1 she comes ! Oh, pearl of all my creatures ! 
Wife ! — Adoration should forever crown 
The worker from whose soul such nameless beauty 
Gushed forth into a loving form ! 
Adore me, for I planned and made thee ; — 
Zeus made thee ! — let him worship Zeus I 



347 



£a! tter tm gan^en 2Befenretd)e, trer 
Serbammet mid) ? — 2Bie nnbemerft, ser'icfytTicfj 
23erfd)nnnben meine Selten, meine ftrafylenqnillenben 
©eftirne, meine tangenben (Spfteme, 
SiJleitt ganjeS gro§e£ (Saitenfpiel, n?ie e£ 
£)ie SBeifen nennen, tt>te bag atle3 tobt 
©egen eine ©eele ! 

c& t m t I £ (fatttmt nalier, ofytte aufjufdjauett), 

SDMn @toI^ mein Stjron ettt @tau6! O ©ernete! 

(gtiegt t^r entgegen, fte tutH flieben.) 

£>u fliejft?— £)n fc^meigft? — £a! ©ernele! bit 

fliebft ? 

JS> f m 1 1 £ (i&n »egftpfeni>). 

£intt>eg ! 

,3 C tl 5 (nadj einer J'aufe bel SrfraunenS). 

Xx'dumt Jupiter ! SBitt bie Wainx 
3u ©rnnbe fliir^en? — (So fprid)t @emele? — 
2$ie, feine Slntmott ! — ©ierig ftrecft mein 5lrm 
9?a$ bir ftd) an3 — fo pod)te nte mein £er$ 
£)er Softer SlgenorS entgegen, fo 
@d)lug'S nie an £eba3 23rnft, fo brannten meine Stppen 
9ta§ £anae$ oerfc^loffnen ^iijfen nie, 
21(3 ie£o — 

£ emtle. 
<2djtt>eig, Serrat^er! 

^fUS (untotllig, jartltd)). 

©emele! 

j$ e m 1 1 e. 

glend) ! 

Jifttj (ratt 2J?ajeftat fte anfefjenb). 

3dj bin 3^^ I 



347 

Ha ! who, among my creatures, would condemn me ? 
How insignificant my worlds, my beaming stars, 
And my revolving systems !— the music of my spheres, 
As sages term it ;— oh, how dead is all 
This wondrous harmony before a living soul ! 

SEMELE {approaches without looking up). 

ZEUS. 

My pride, my throne is dust ! Oh, Semele ! 

{Flies to meet her ; she tries to escape.) 

Thou fleest ? — art silent ? — Semele, thou fleest ? 

SEMELE {pushing him back). 

Away! 

ZEUS {after a pause, amazed). 

Is this a dream ? Is nature 
Threatened with eternal chaos ? 
What, Semele, no answer ? What, my arms 
Seek thee in vain ! — My heart thus never beat 
For Agenor's thrice-blessed daughter, 
On Leda's breast ; my lips thus never burnt 
For Danae's concealed embraces. 

SEMELE. 

Enough, thou traitor ! 

ZEUS {indignantly, tenderly). 

Semele ! 

SEMELE. 

Flee! 

ZEUS {looking at her with majesty). 

I am Zeus ! 



348 



£ t nt 1 1 e. 

£)u 3eu6 ? 
(Sr^tttre, ©almoneus, nut ©djrecfen toirb 
(£r nueberforbern ben geftotjlnen ©djmutf, 
£)en bu gelaftert *)aft — £)u Bift ni$t 3eu$! 

^BS (grog). 

£)er SBeltBau bre^t im SBitfcel ftc^ urn mtcfj 
Unb nennt mi(^ fo — 

j& t m e I e. 
£a! ©otteStajhruna,! 

jfU9 (fanfter). 

$3ie, nteinc ©ottlttfje? 3Son toannen biefer Son! 
23er ift ber 2Surm, ber mix betn iperg entrcenbet ? 

& * ttt e I e. 
Sftein iper^ mar bent getoetljt, beg 5Iff' bn Mjl — 
Dft lommen 9ftenfd)en nnter ©otterlarse, 
Sin SBeib gu fangen — gort! £)n btft ntcfyt 3eu$! 

£)u 3metfel|t? $ann an meiner ©ott^eit ©emele 
sftodj jtteifeln? 

^Ctttele (wefrmitfrg). 

S3arft bn QtuS I Rtin (Sofjn 
2)e^ 9ftorgenntmmerfetn3 (oil biefen 9ftunb Beritfjretn 
3euS ijt bieS iperj getoetfyt D marft bn 3^^ I 

£>u tteinefl ? 3^^ if* k a > « ni) ©emele fott rceinen ? 

(giteberfattenb.) 

©prtdj, forbre! nnb bte fnedjrifdje 5^atnr 
©ott ^itternb sorber £od)ter ^abmn^ 1 tiegenl 
©e&eut! nnb ©trome mafytn gainings §altl 
Hnb £elifon nnb StauftfuS nnb S^nt^ug 
Unb Wfyot, VflyMt unb Sftyobope unb $inbu$, 
S3on meines SBinfeS Stttgewatt 



us 

SEMELE. 

Thou Zeus ? 
Ah, tremble, Salrnoneus ; most terribly 
"Will he reclaim his splendor 
Thus blasphemed — thou art not Zeus 1 

ZEUS (icith grandeur). 

This universe revolves around me, 
And calls me Zeus — 

SEMELE. 

Ah, blasphemy ! 

ZEUS (more subdued). 

Why, cherished goddess, whence this bitter speech ? 
"What worm has robbed me of thy heart's affection ? 

SEMELE. 

My heart belongs to him whose mask thou wear'st. 

Bad men disguised as gods, have often tried 

A woman to insnare ; — Away, thou art not Zeus ! 

ZEUS. 

"Why doubtest thou my godhead, Semele ? 

SEMELE (sadly). 

"Would thou wert Zeus ! I gave my heart to him ; 
No earth-born son shall ever kiss my lips. 

ZEUS. 

Thou weepest, Semele ? Behold thy Zeus adoring ! 

(Kneels down.) 

Speak, ask, and servile nature lies prostrate at thy feet ! 
Command, and rivers cease to flow ! 
And Helicon, and Caucasus and Cynthus, 
And Athos, Mycale and Pindus, 
Disenabled by my almighty nod, 



349 

Sntfeffelt, fiijfen £M unb Iriftett 

Unb tanpn, gfocfen gletdj, in ben *>crftnflcrtctt Sufteu* 

©eoeut! unb 9?orb* unb Dffc* unb Siroelnunb 

SMagern ben at(macfttia.en £ribent, 

X>urdjrutteln $oftbaon3 £firone, 

(Emporet fteigt ba3 5Reer, ©eftab 1 unb Dantnt JU ipotjne, 

£>er 23(i£ praljlt mtt ber 5^ac^t, unb $ot unb £immel 

fracfyen, 
£)er Conner fcrufft cuts taufenbfad)em 3^ad)en, 
£)er Ocean lanft gegett ben DfyntpuS (Sturm, 
5Dtr flotet ber Drfan ein Siegeclieb entgegen, . . 

©eoeut — 

SSemele. 
3$ bin tin 23eto, ein jterBticfj 2MB, 
2Bie fann oor feinem Jopf ber Sopfer tiegen, 
£)er ^iinftler Inien ttor feiner ©tatue? 

§)9amalton Beugt ftd> sor feinem Sftetjhrjtftde — 
3eu» Betet an oor feiner ©emele! 

& t Ttt e I e (fcefttger wetttenb). 

@td) t auf — (fefj' auf — O rceB mtr armen 9ttabdjen! 
3eu3 Bat metn Jper^, nnr ©otter fann id) tieBen. 
Unb ©otter lacfyen mein, unb %tn* oeradjtet midjl 

3eu3, b&r %n beinen gitjjen Hegt — 

& t m 1 1 1 . 

©tdj 1 auf! 
3eu3 tfjronet iiBer fiofyern £onnerfeilen 
Unb fpottet tints 23urm3 in 3uno6 2Irmen. 

^fUS (mtt Jpeftigfeit). 

£a! @emele unb ;juno! — $3er 
©inSBunn? 






349 

Shall woo the valley and the meadow, 

And whirl, like snow-flakes, through the darkened 

air! 
Command ! And hurricanes from north and east 
Shall widely shake Poseidon's watery deep. 
The mighty sea shall in defiance leap 
O'er barriers, and the unfathomable abyss 
Shall send forth peals of thunder ; 
Lightnings hiss 

Through gloomy night, and rend the poles asunder ! 
Old Ocean rises to Olympus' summit, 
Fierce hurricanes shall welcome thee in chorus ! 
Command — 

SEMELE. 

I am a mortal woman, 
How can the worker worship his own work ? 

ZEUS. 

Pygmalion bows before his masterpiece, 
Zeus worships his own Semele ! 

SEMELE (sobbing still more loudly). 

Arise ! arise I oh woe is me, poor girl ! 

Zeus has my heart, and he despises me, 

I can love none but gods, and gods laugh me to scorn ! 

ZEUS. 

Zeus at thy feet I 

SEMELE. 

Arise ! 
Zeus wields the thunderbolt ; he spurns 
A mortal worm in Juno's arms. 

ZEUS (vehemently)- 

Ah ! Semele and Juno ! — Thou a worm ? 
51 



350 



£ t m s I e. 

D unait<?fpre$lid) glMfidj toate 
£)te £o$ter ^abmus 1 — toarjt bu 3eu$ — £> foetyl 
£>u oift nicfyt 3*w3! 

j**U0 «auf). 

3d) out's! 

(SRecft Me Jpcmb au$, eta JRegenboaen fie&t im ©oaL £>te 2J?u{tf Beglettet 
Me Qnrfdjetnwng.) 

$emtjt bit ntidj nun? 
& e m 1 1 *. 

(Star! tjt besS 9ftenfd)en $rm, toentt tfjn bie ©otter 

ftu^ett, 
£){$ HeBt (SatitrmttS — 9?ur ©otter fann 
3$ Heoett — 

Sftodj ! tto$ gmetfelft bit, 
Do mettte $raft rmr <3?otterrt aogefcorget, 
5Rtd)t gottgeoorett fei? — £)te ©otter, @emete, 
S5erletr)n ben Sftenfd^ett oft toofyltfyattge $rafte, 
S)odj i^re ©djredett Ietr)en ©otter nie — 
Slob rmb 3Serber6en ift ber ®otu)eit @iegel, 
Sobtenb ent^iiHt ffdj Jupiter bir! 

(@r redt Me £anb au$. £nafl, geuer, 5Raut^ unb ©rbfceben. SKuflf Be- 
gfeitet Mer wnb in Bnlunft ben 3auber.) 

& z m s I e. 

3tefj beine ^»attb guritcf ! — D ©ttabe, ©ttabe 
£)em armen SSolf! — 2)tdj ^at ©aturtttuS 
©ejettget — 

£a! Cetdjtfertige! 
©oil 3 e «^ bem ©tarrfttm eitteS SBetBeS iootjf 
^laneten bre^tt wnb ©onttett ftillfMjtt ^eifen? 
3eu3 tturb eg u)tm! — Dft t)at ein ©otterfofjtt 
2)en fetterfdjioattgertt 23au$ ber §e(fen aufgeri£t, 



350 

SEMELE. 

"What bliss ineffable would swell my heart, 

If thou wert Zeus ! Alas ! thou art not Zeus ! 

ZEUS (rises). 

I am ! 

(Stretching out his hand; a rainbow is seen in the hall; music accompanies 
this sign). 

Does not this sign reveal me ? 

SEMELE. 

When helped by gods, the human arm is strong, 
Saturnius loves thee ; I love none but gods. 

ZEUS. 

Still doubtest thou my god-born power ? 

As though my power were borrowed from the gods ? 

They may invest their creature, man, 

"With heavenly virtues, not with deathly terrors. 

Death and destruction are the seal of godhead. 

Behold Zeus in his might ! 

(Stretching out his hand; loud report, fire, smoke and earthquake. Music 
accompanies this charm, and all subsequent scenes of this character.) 

SEMELE. 

"Withdraw thy hand ! 
Oh mercy, mercy for the people ! 

Thou art Saturnius' son ! 

ZEUS. 

Ah ! Can a silly woman 
Be conquered only by revolving planets ? 
Must suns be stopped in their eternal course ? 
A god-born man may split a mountain's womb, 
And flames may issue forth at his command. 



351 



£)o$ feme £raft erla^mt in SettuS ©djrattfett; 
£>ag fann nur 3tu$ I 

(<£r retft bte £aub cu«, bte ©onne serfdjwmbet, ti wirb ptofelt^ 5Ka$t.) 
§> emzle (ftfirjt »or tljm ttteber). 

Sltfmadjtiger! — £) toenn 
©utteBenfomttefl! 

(@3 tturb ttleberum £ag.) 
j**U0. 

$a\ bie Softer $abmus' fragt 
fronton, oB fronton tieBen fonnte? 
(Sin SBort — unb er toirft feme ©ott^eit ab, 
2Btrb $Ieifdj unb Slut, nub flirBt unb ttirb getieBt 

& * m * I *. 

£)a$ tfjate3eus? 

^eu0. 
(Sprtd), ©emete, toas nte^r? 
Sip otto fel&fl gefianb, eg fei ©ntjutfen, 
fDTenfc^ unter SSftenfdjen fein — Sin 2Bm? oon bir — 

3AWH 

^ ettt tie (fffllt ifim um ben $al«). 

D Supittx, bte SBeiBer (Eptbauru^ fdjelten 
©in ttyoridjt 9ftabdjen beine ©entele, 
•Die, tiim bent 2)onnerer gelteBet, ntcfytS 
S3on i§m erBttten faun — 

gens (5efrt8). 

(£rrot§en fotten 
£>te SBetBer (SpibaurusM — S3ttte! Bitte nur I 
Unb Bet bent ©tyr, beg fdjrcmfenlofe 9ftadjt 
©etBfi ©otter ffta&ifdj Beugt — toenn gtu$ bir jaubert, 
©o fott ber ©ott in etnent ein^gen 9ht 
£immter ntidj in bie 55erntd)tung bonnern! 

§5 em tie (froS auffprmgenb). 

£>aran erfenn' idj ntetnen 3upiter! 



351 

Earth-bound is all such power ; 

Zeus rules the world ! 

(He stretches out his hand, the sun disappears. Sudden darkness comes over 
the scene.) 

SEMELE (falls down before him). 

Omnipotent I Ah, canst thou love me ? 

{The night disappears.) 

ZEUS. 

If Jupiter can love thee ? For thy love 
He will abjure his godhead, be transformed 
Into a form of mortal flesh and blood. 

SEMELE. 

Would Zeus do that? 

ZEUS. 

Speak, Semele ! What more ? 
Apollo found it sweet to be a man 
Among his like. A single nod from thee — 
And I'm a man ! 

SEMELE (hugging him). 

Oh Jupiter ! by Epidaurus' women 

Thy Semele is called a silly girl, 

She loves thee, yet her love 

Can never move thy heart to grant a prayer. 

ZEUS (emphatically). 

These women shall be shamed, 

By Styx, whose boundless power ev'n gods enchains ! 

His wrath shall hurl me down into perdition, 

If I delay the granting thy request. 

SEMELE (starling up in a transport of joy). 

By this I recognize my Jupiter ! 



352 

T)u fc^ttjurefl ntir — ber (Styr $at eg ge^ort! 
<So lag nttcr; benn nie anbers bid) umarmen, 
8K« toie — 

^£U8 (erf^rocfen f^reienb), 

Unglucflidje! fyalt' einl 

£ j m 1 1 *. 

©aturnia — 

^eits (witt i$r beit 2ttunb fallen). 

SSerjiummel 

kernel*. 

JDtdj umcmut! 

^eU8 (fcfetcf), son t§r toeggewanbt). 

3u frat! £>er £aut entrann! — £)er @tyr! — £)u 

$a|t ben £ob 
(£rMen, ©ernefe! 

g t tn e U. 
£>a! fo liebt Jupiter? 

3>n £tmmet gaV idj brum, fyatt' id) bid) lumber nur 

©eliebt! (3Rit foltem <£titfefcen fie anftarreitb.) 2)U &i|t tterloren — 

& t m e I *. 

Sttptter! 

^ e U S (flrimmig »or fl<$ tylnrebenb). 

£a! mcrf id) nun bein ©tegfro^lotfen, 3«tto? 
35erttmnf<$te (Siferfu^t! — D biefe Stofe frirfct! 
3u fdjon — ot»e|! — gu fefifcar fur ben SldjeronJ 

£>u geigejt nur mit beirter £errlidjfeit! 

gludj iiBer nteine £errlid)fett, bie bid) 
$erblenbete ! gludj iiber nteine ©rofje, 
£)ie bid) jerf^mettert! gfudj, gtudj iifcer ntt<$, 
'£)&$ id) mein ©litcf auf morf^en ©raufc gefcaut! 



352 

The frightful Styx has heard thy oath I 
Grant me to hug — 

ZEUS {crying out in a paroxysm of terror). 

£>top ! wretched woman ! 

SEMELE. 

Thy naming godhead — 

{Zeus tries to keep her mouth closed.) 

As Saturnia does ! 

ZEUS {pale, turning his face aivay from her). 

Too late ! — Thy prayer is granted !— Death to thee ! 

SEMELE. 

Is this the love Zeus bears me ? 

ZEUS. 

Styx, oh Styx ! 
Take heaven, and let this cherished one be saved ! 

( Gazing at her with horror.) 

Doomed ! Doomed ! 

SEMELE. 

Ah, Jupiter ! 

ZEUS {to himself with fierce wrath). 

I hear thy shouts, exulting Juno ! 
Accursed jealousy ! — This rose must wither ! 
Too beautiful, alas ! for Acheron ! 

SEMELE. 

Why dost thou stint me in thy splendor ? 

ZEUS. 

A curse upon it, and its dazzling charms ! 
Upon my greatness, since it crushes thee 1 
A curse upon myself, since I have dared 
To build my bliss upon this mortal dust 1 



353 



&a$ finb nut leere ©cfyrecfen, 3^$/ mlr Bangt 
23or beinem £)ro§en nidjt! 

33ett)orte3 ^inb! 
®etj — tttmm bas Ie£re 2eBen?oI)I auf etoig 
Son beinen ^reunbimtett — nidjts — ttidjrsS ttermctg 
2)idj met)r git retten — (Semele! t$ Mtt beirt 3 e w3! 
2Iu$ ba$ nicfyt meljr — ®e§ — 
% 'e m e 1 1. 

9tabifdjer! ber ©tyr! — 
Du totrft mir nid)t entfdjlitpfetn 

(<Ste fle$i <x&.) 

9Tein! triumpljtrett foil fie nidjt. — (Srgitrem 
©oil fie — unb fraft ber tobtenben ©en>alt, 
Die (Srb' unb £immel mir gum ©kernel maty, 
SBttt ait bem f$roffften gelfen ST&raciens 
Sftit biamantnen Retten idj bie 2lrge fdjmiebeit — 
2ht$ biefen ©djnmr — 

(SUiercur erfdjehtt tit ©ntfernuttg.) 

2Ba$ mitt bein rafter Slug? 
<i#t e r f u r. 

^eitrtgen, gefliigetten, toeinenbeit ©an! 
£>er ®lMlityin — 

<5eu0. 
SSerberoe fte mieber 1 

$WL event (erftttimt). 

$en*. 

©littfltdj foil niemanb fein! 

<5te ftirfct — 

(£>er 25or^attg fd'IIt) 



©flutters fSmmtt. SSJerle. I. 23 



353 



SEMELE. 

Vain terrors I Spare thy threats ! 
They do not frighten me I 

ZEUS. 

Ah, foolish child I 
Go ! — Bid farewell forever 
To thy friends ! — I cannot save thee ! 
I am thy Zeus ! — No, not ev'n this 
More — Go — 

SEMELE. 

Styx heard the vow I 
It binds thee ! 

(Goes off.) 

ZEUS. 

Should she triumph ? 
She shall tremble ! — My destructive power, [ ject, 

To which all things, ev'n Earth and Heaven, are sub- 
Shall fasten her to Thracia's steepest rock 
With adamantine chains — 
This horrid oath I — 

(Mercurius appears in the distance.) 

What means thy rapid flight ? 

MERCURIUS.* 

I bring the fiery, winged, and weeping thanks 
Of those whom thou hast blest — 

ZEUS. 

Again destroy them ! 



Zeus ! 
She dies— 



MERCURIUS {amazed). 

ZEUS. - 

None shall be happy ! 

(The curtain falls.) 

Charles J. Hempel, M.D. 

* See note t. 



NOTES 

AND 

APPENDIX. 



(355) 



NOTES AND APPENDIX. 



Note a, p. 22. 

Mekiyale translates "zum Keich des Nichts," (t into 
the realm of thought;" the correct interpretation would 
be, into the realm of nothingness. Our intention in making 
this, and a few kindred notes, is, not to gain renown for 
ourselves, nor to detract one iota from the learned Meri- 
vale, and his worthy compeers ; but to call the attention 
of those of our readers who have not a thorough knowl- 
edge of both languages, to the fact, that most of the quali- 
fied translators from the German occasionally misconceive 
the true meaning of a word or phrase. In case of a slight 
obscurity or an ambiguity, among ten or twelve trans- 
lators, we find no two arriving at the same conclusion. 
We feel an obligation to say to the G-erman scholar, that 
we know there are in this collection, in exceptional cases, 
misconceptions of words and short phrases, and interpre- 
tations of ambiguities, which receive neither our sanction 
nor approbation. In no instance, however, do they so 
affect the idea of a poem as to injure it as a whole ; nor 
are they of sufficient moment to warrant, in every case, 
an alteration or lengthy dissertation. The best, and per- 
haps the only way to overcome this difficulty, is for the 
student to acquire such a knowledge, a sympathetic knowl- 
edge, of the German language, as will enable him to com- 
prehend and appreciate its niceties ; then he can make his 
own comparisons and draw his own conclusions. The 
question will naturally be asked, why has a single trans- 
lation been retained, wherein any apparent misconcep- 
52 ' (357) 



358 

tions or doubtful interpretations of ambiguities occur? 
To which we reply, if a translation has the defects men- 
tioned above, each of the other translations of the same 
poem has them, to the same or to a greater extent, and, 
when placed in the scale we have adopted as our standard, 
it has been found the most acceptable. Our province, as 
we have elsewhere hinted, is to give the best translations 
of Schiller, as they exist. We may write, at some future 
day, a dissertation on Schiller in English, quite a work 
in itself. 

Note 5, p. 88. 
Those parts marked with an asterisk are taken from 
Bowring, — Merivale, for reasons unexplained, having 
omitted them. We consider this version so peculiarly 
fine, that we have no hesitation in retaining it, notwith- 
standing the omissions. 

Note c, p. 46. 
This stanza is also taken from Bowring, having been 
omitted by Hempel. Hempel's translation, though cer- 
tainly graceful, is far from faithful, — and it is perhaps 
better so. "The Dignity of Man" is one of Schiller's 
suppressed pieces, and although Bowring's version of the 
entire poem is both literal and poetical, and should, 
therefore, have the preference on philological grounds ; 
yet, other causes compel us, after careful consideration, 
to make an exception, in this case, to the general rule we 
have adopted for the government of our selections. 

Note d, p. 49. 

Dulcken translates "Greiner," "Weeper;" Bowring, 
"Growler;" Merivale, " Groaner " or "Grumbler;" 
Bulwer, "Growler." The first, "Weeper," we consider 
philologically false ; the last, " Growler," though akin to 
Quarreler, is not a synonym. Greinen, the infinitive of 



359 

the verb, is a provincialism of Southern Germany, a word 
having more than one signification. That Eberhard was 
not a weeper, although he "shed a sparkling tear that 
silent form upon," nor that he was even unjustly called 
so by his followers and neighbors, all who are familiar 
with the History of Germany, or Uhland's poems, well 
know. We think quarreler is a better word than growler : 
a quarreler is aggressive, a growler or grumbler is not 
necessarily so ; a quarreler is apt to be a growler, but a 
growler is not so apt to be a quarreler. Since Eberhard 
was surnamed "Der Greiner," on account of his propen- 
sity for seeking quarrels with his neighbors, we take the 
liberty of substituting Quarreler for Dulcken's "Weeper," 
in his otherwise correct, and fair version ; feeling that he 
labored under a misconception of the word, taking of two 
meanings, the one, in this case, meaningless. 

Note e, p. 63. 
Of four translations, we think Bulwer's rendition is 
the only one wherein the line, " Du bist nicht mehr 
wenn dieser Schein verfaellt," is given correctly. For 
"Schein," the others give us "dream," "delusion," 
which it may mean ; but it may also mean, and here cer- 
tainly does mean, bond or obligation, relating to, and 
being part of, the figure in " Die Schuldverschreibung 
lautet an die Todten." Schiller's idea certainly was, 
however unpoetical the figure, Thou art no more, when 
due the obligation. This poem is not so well translated 
into English, as are many of the others in this collection : 
it does not appear to have been thoroughly understood by 
the translators ; there seems to be wanting a certain sym- 
pathetic feeling, without which no translation can be a 
positive success ; and the meaning of this poem, therefore, 
may appear mystical to many, whereas it is perfectly clear 
in the German, though treating of the obscure. But, "La 
critique est aisee, et l'art est difficile." Bulwer, though 
generally making use of a metre peculiarly his own, 



360 

which may be called a kind of mixed, iambics defying 
scansion, if he is not always poetical, has yet the great 
merit of understanding his author much better than most 
translators, notwithstanding his assertion: "The more 
abstract of Schiller's poems are not unfrequently obscure 
even to German readers." That Bulwer can be poetical 
in a translation, his wonderful version of the Infanticide, 
is conclusive proof. Bulwer himself, in speaking of the 
change of metre above mentioned, makes the following 
curious remarks : " Where I have made variations, I have 
sought to select the metres which Schiller might have 
sanctioned (!) had he been as well acquainted with our 
language and its poetical forms, as an English translator 
may be presumed to be." 

Note/, p. 69. 

]STo other production of Schiller's, not even excepting his 
Robbos, created such an intense excitement, not one was so 
severely criticized, as was his "Gods of Greece;" and what 
was the reason? Simply because the majority of the people 
of those days failed to understand it. It does not speak 
well for the proverbial intelligence of the Germans, when 
a Schiller is forced, by the voice of public opinion to cut 
down this wonderful creation from twenty-five stanzas to 
sixteen. " The Gods of Greece," as it originally appeared, 
is, in our opinion, one of the most beautiful of Schiller's 
many remarkable conceptions ; such an assertion, we 
know, almost requires an accompanying defence, and 
there is much we would say upon the subject, were this 
the place. That the "Gods of Greece" was not, and is 
not, generally understood, is proven beyond a doubt, to 
our mind, by the following extract from one of Schiller's 
own letters to his friend, Koerner, wherein he refers to 
a recent bitter attack upon his " Gods of Greece," by 
Stolberg, in the Museum : 

" I think Stolberg's sottise and my poem might have 
given you some details to serve as an example to your 



361 

general rule. I am of opinion that the general rule ought 
to be this : the artist, and especially the poet, should never 
select the Keal, hut only the Ideal, or something taken 
from the Eeal, capable of artistic treatment. For example, 
he should never touch morality or religion, but only such 
attributes of each as are requisite for his subject. He, 
therefore, does not sin against either : he can only sin 
against the aesthetic arrangement, or against taste. If, 
from the fragments of religion cr morality, I can consti- 
tute an entire, a beautiful whole, my artistical production 
is a good one ; and it is neither immoral nor irreligious, 
because I did not take either subject as it is, but only after 
a violent operation — that is to say, after pulling it to 
pieces, and putting it together again. The deity whom I 
place in the background in the ' Gods of Greece,' is not the 
deity of the philosophers, nor is he the benevolent being that 
pervades the dreams of the great mass ; but he is a monster, 
a compound of many different and distorted ideas. The Gods 
of the Greeks, tohom I place in the foreground, are only the 
loveable qualities of the Greek mythology, collected together 
in one picture. 11 

The poem appears twice in this collection ; first, in six- 
teen stanzas, as altered by Schiller for later editions, the 
translation being by Bowring ; and then in twenty-five, 
as originally written, part being by Bowring, and the nine 
additional stanzas and alterations by the editor. 

Note g, p. 81. 

This poem appears in but few editions of Schiller's 
works, and, as far as our knowledge is concerned, is in 
this collection, for the first time presented to the reading 
public in an English garb. The measure is not altogether 
pure, approaching nearest to the dactylic hexameter, with 
trimeter refrain. The poetic idea, comparatively speak- 
ing, is hardly satisfactory, and the artist has used in its 
treatment the gay colors of metaphor and hyperbole too 



862 

thickly. "We think it properly ranks with the early poems 
of the first period. 

Note h, p. 116. 

Schiller, in the original, here makes use of the word 
"Lioness (Loewin for Lawine), the avalanche. Schiller has 
the following note : " Loewin, in some parts of Switzer- 
land, is the corrupt expression for Lawine." This corrupt 
use of the word produces quite a pretty metaphor, and 
Schiller's verse: " Und willst du die schlafende Loewin 
nicht wecken " (And wouldst thou not waken the sleeping 
Lioness) is certainly much more beautiful and poetical 
than, And wouldst thou not waken the sleeping Lawine. 
Schiller here happily turns a corruption of language into 
a poetic idea, for, we suppose the reader will coincide with 
us (we who well know the happy people, and their homes 
among the mountains and the valleys) that the Swiss 
have no thought of poetry, when using "Loewin" for 
" Lawine ; " but are rather guilty of carelessness or igno- 
rance in not speaking their language as it is written. 

There is a question as to the propriety of Anglicizing 
"Lawine" for avalanche; no lexicographers, to our 
knowledge, sanction it. 

Note i, p. 118. 

Bulwer, in this masterly version, for reasons beyond 
our comprehension, but true to his own peculiar ideas of 
metrical effect, has, in the last two lines of the last stanza, 
suddenly changed the verse from pure trochaic to pure 
iambic. This justification, if any, is not to be drawn from 
the original. This is his version : 

Why should my herds before thee fall? 
There's room upon the earth eor all. 

The reader will notice that we have altered the above, 
and we hope to be pardoned for the slight liberty so taken ; 



363 

we felt called upon, either to make the alteration, or to 
take another translation. We adopted the former course, 
since Bulwer's version, with alteration, stands the test 
better than the others, and well deserves the position it 
occupies in this book. Bulwer wears upon his brow the 
laurel wreath, and it would be indeed a futile task, even 
if we desired it, to pluck one laurel from that evergreen 
chaplet, so fairly won in the enchanting fields of Romance; 
but we are nevertheless of the opinion, that just because 
he is so great, his translations do not always give satisfac- 
tion, remaining unredeemed by his learned notes; for we 
often feel as if he would set himself above Schiller. Other 
translators, almost without a name in the literary world, 
who follow their model with a holy reverence, forgetting 
self entirely, in their labor of love, have, in many in- 
stances, far surpassed Bulwer, in producing successful 
translations of Schiller. 



Note j, p. 128. 

"You see," says Goethe, in his conversations with 
Eckermann, " what an artist was Schiller, and how he 
could manage even the objective when it was once before 
his eyes. I wish he had made a dozen such poems as that 
Indian Death-Song. It is one of his very best ; and yet 
some of his nearest friends found fault with this poem, 
thinking it was not sufficiently tinctured with Ideality." 

It was only after reading the above, and similar eulo- 
gistic expressions of contemporaneous celebrities, that we 
pondered longer over this production than we should 
otherwise have done. From the first reading, it was no 
especial favorite of ours, and we yet find ourselves ar- 
rayed with those, among whom is Humboldt, who see in 
it a want of sufficient Ideality, in order to give it any- 
thing like the pre-eminence among Schiller's poems, ac- 
credited to it by so many great thinkers. We know of 
no other poet who is so great and thoroughly an Idealist 



364 

as Schiller ; he literally lived in a world of Ideas, and for 
that very reason we naturally look for his greatest tri- 
umphs in such poems as " The Ideals," " The Ideal and 
Life," &c. "The Indian Death-Song" is a pleasing 
composition, nothing more; of poems somewhat similar, 
we consider Schiller's little allegorical lyric, " The Maiden 
from Afar," whereof we present a remarkable translation 
by Florence, decidedly the most beautiful, affecting, and 
masterly Schiller has written ; yet, when speaking of 
Schiller's poems collectively, we would never say that it 
is one of his very best. We call particular attention to 
this poem, " The Indian Death-Song," because it attracted 
the universal attention of the great lights of Germany, 
and because some wish to give to it a prominence we do 
not think it deserves, since it is done at the expense of 
other and grander productions. To give a good transla- 
tion of a poem of this description, presents almost insur- 
mountable difficulties; for, where there is any want of 
Ideality in the German, there is very apt to be little left 
in the English. By far the best translation of this poem 
is by Florence; it is brilliantly successful, a model trans- 
lation. The chief reason we introduce it here, and not in 
the body of the book, is, because there are three stanzas 
not translated ; besides, a comparison with Frothingham's, 
which also has its merits, may not prove uninteresting. 

THE INDIAN DEATH-SONG. 

See him on his mat reposing ! 

Upright sits he there ; 
That unaltered mien disclosing 

Which in life he bare. 

But, oh 1 where the grasp unfailing ? — 
' Breath once taught to roll 
Incense, from his pipe exhaling, 
To the Eternal Soul? 



365 

Where the eyes, whose falcon glances 

Tracked the fleet rein-deer 
O'er the grass, that, wave-like, dances? — 

O'er the dew-drops clear? 

These the limbs that recked not danger, 

Bounding through the snow, 
Like the many-antlered ranger, 

Like the mountain roe? 

These the arms, by whose endeavor 

Strongest bows were bent? 
See — their life is fled forever ! 

See — their nerves are spent ! 

He is blessed — he goeth thither 

Where are no more snows — 
Where, in fields that may not wither, 

Maize uncultured grows ; 

Where with birds the groves resounding, 

Forests teem with prey ; 
Where in lakes the fishes bounding 

Blithely leap and play. 

There he feasts 'mid happy spirits, 

Leaves us all alone, 
Here, below, to chant his merits, 

And his acts make known. 

With the parting gifts provide him I 

Sing his death -lament ! 
All things be entombed beside him, 

That may yield content I 

53 Florence. 



366 



Note k, p. 152. 
Having concluded to retain Impey's version of this 
poem, although he has omitted to translate several 
strophes, we have again borrowed from Bowring in those 
places marked with an asterisk. 

Note I, p. 194. 
The Eucharist is carried in procession ; Fridolin meets 
it, and the lines of the ballad allude to the Roman Catholic 
belief respecting its nature. 

Q. B. 
Note ra, p. 231. 

It is almost superfluous for us to remark, that outside 
of Germany, Schiller is best known, by his " Song of the 
Bell," one of the most wonderful and brilliant conceptions 
of genius to be met with in any age or country. No man 
can take up Schiller without becoming deeply interested, 
nor can he read his sublime creations without being the 
better for doing so ; but when he turns to the " Song of 
the Bell," if he has it not already engraven upon the 
tablets of his memory, he will find, at any stage in the 
history of his life, the encouragement, consolation, and 
sympathy often so necessary to the human heart, as it 
throbs, throbs through this world of sunshine and cloud. 
In this chef d'ceuvre, Schiller paints life, from the cradle 
to the grave, with the hand of one inspired, like another 
Eaphael ; if it be read by young or old, in a fitting mood, 
and with a clear understanding, it cannot fail to be a 
source of pleasure and profit, not alone to the reader, 
but also to those clustering around his affections, for they 
too will feel its radiating influence. Can anything be 
more touchingly beautiful than the following : 

"Einen Blick 
Nach dem Grabe 
Seiner Habe 
Sendet noch der Mensch zurueck — 



367 

Greift froehlich dann zum Wanderstabe. 
Was Feuers Wuth ihm auch geraubt, 
Ein suesser Trost 1st ihm geblieben : 
Er zaehlt die Haeupter seiner Lieben, 
TJnd siehl ihmfehlt kein theures Haupt. 1 ' 

This is an exquisite picture of the sweetest consolation 
granted to mortals, and the whole poem abounds in like 
sublime and consoling sentiments. The translations, pub- 
lished and unpublished, are without number. Although 
we have no reason to complain of a want of material from 
which to select, yet there is still room for one more trans- 
lation, such another it would be possible to make, but the 
task is so difficult that we fear we shall never have the 
satisfaction of reading it. Not one of the many versions 
gives entire satisfaction, since none do justice to the origi- 
nal. The version selected for this collection is by our 
fellow-townsman, W. H. Furness ; it is undoubtedly one 
of the most popular in the United States, possessing the 
great merit of adhering, only to a certain extent, however, 
to the rhythm and rhyme of the original — the music to 
which the sentiments are set. "A translation," says 
Cervantes, "is like the wrong side of tapestry, where, 
though we can distinguish the figures, they are confused 
and obscured by ends and threads." 

This never was truer than when applied to translations 
of Schiller's "Bell." The best evidence that we do not 
wish to detract from Dr. Furness's effort, and we speak of 
it as justly holding one of the highest places, is, that we 
have selected it from so many ; nor do we wish to be un- 
derstood as insinuating that it will ever be done better, 
although we reassert that it is possible to do it better. 
The object Dr. Furness endeavors to secure of retaining 
the original measure, is certainly commendable ; without 
it the translator leaves the road leading to the goal, per- 
fection; but how difficult, save mere negative success, is 



368 

essayed it. To have succeeded so well is his "own re- 
ward." It is to be regretted that so very many words 
intended to pass for allowable rhymes are no rhymes at 
all, and,' though Pope, Dryden, and Parnell may have 
done worse, no authority can make them what they are 
not. Though we fully concur with Lord Mahon in the 
following opinion : "I would rather bear a faulty rhyme 
than lose a noble thought," yet, when a poem abounds in 
faulty rhymes, especially where a translator makes it an 
object to reproduce the female rhymes, not merely to give 
words of two syllables, it certainly detracts. This brings 
back to memory William Mueller's charming poemlet, 
which is not out of place here : 

WAS 1ST DAS HEEZ OHKE LIEBE. 

Wie ein Land ohne Herrn, 

Wie die ISTacht ohne Stern, 

Wie der Becher ohne Wein, 

Wie der Vogel ohne Hain, 

Wie ohn' Aug ein G-esicht, 

Wie ohn 1 Reim ein Gedicht, 

So ohne der Liebe Scherz und Schmerz 
Das Herz. 
The most graceful and poetical translation of the "Bell " 
is decidedly that by James Clarence Mangan, if we con- 
sider it more in the light of an original composition; it 
is truly grand, full of the most beautiful flights of a poet's 
imagination. We would advise every one to read it, but 
only after having acquired a knowledge of a translation 
that at least pretends to approach what should be the 
translator's Ideal, a poetical meta r ph.rase ; for, we can no 
mere get a correct idea of Schiller's writings by means of 
Siangan's translations, than of history, by Louisa Muehl- 
bach's historical novels. John Mitchel, the American 
editor of Mangan 's works, correctly says : 

" Literalness was in his (Mangan's) eyes one of the least 
qualities of a truly faithful translator of poetry into 



869 

poetry ; and the license he allows himself in this regard 
is sometimes so great as to alter materially the author's 
meaning. Some of his translations are perfect works of 
art in themselves, whether translations or not, never per- 
haps exceeded for strength, sweetness, and beauty of finish; 
once read in a fitting mood of mind, their melody haunts 
the ear." 

Mangan himself says, in the preface to the Dublin edi- 
tion of his works: " Though not always true to the letter, 
I am true to the spirit. If the train of thought be gone, 
I think the spirit is gone too." 

" Only a poet can translate poetry into poetry," is the 
sweeping assertion of many reviewers ; and yet, it is just 
because Mangan is a poet, that his translations from the 
German, as translations, will never satisfy the German 
scholar. Poetical translations are too apt to be judged as 
original compositions, especially by those who are unable 
to read the originals, thus inducing many translators to 
undertake the lighter, and more thankful task, of care- 
lessly sacrificing everything for euphony and rhythmical 
effect. A careful and conscientious translator of poetry 
has many things to consider, and only those having a 
knowledge of both languages can fully appreciate his en- 
deavors. 

It is self-evident that a poetical translation must be 
poetically rendered, but it is just as evident, that, unless 
the author's meaning be correctly given, it fails to be a 
translation at all. Poetical translations wanting any of 
the essential parts, are 

" Wie Wein von einem Chemikus 
Durch die Eetort' getrieben, 
Zum Teufel ist der Spiritus, 
Das Phlegma ist geblieben." 

Schiller. 

It is to be regretted that most of Mansran's translations 



370 

there is too much Mangan and too little Schiller. "With- 
out further questioning the right a translator has to indi- 
vidualize himself in a translation, we will here give Man- 
gan's version of the "Bell" entire; An order that the 
reader may judge for himself. We would call particular 
attention to the close, entitled, " The Destination of the 
Bell," which, whatever else maybe said against it, is cer- 
tainly brimful of poetry. We also here give other ver- 
sions of what we shall call " The Destination of the Bell," 
by several of the ablest translators, each of whom seems 
to have concentrated his powers for this climax. Before 
doing so, however, we would ask indulgence for a slight 
digression ; what we have to say concerns a true poet, 
but, unfortunately, one with whom Americans are only 
slightly acquainted. We feel it to be our simple duty to 
second the efforts of another, in calling the attention of 
the American public to the poor, unfortunate Irish poet, 
James Clarence Mangan. John Mitchel thus introduces 
Mangan to the American public : 

" No purer and more benevolent spirit ever alighted 
upon earth — no more abandoned wretch ever found earth 
a purgatory and a hell. There were, as I have said, two 
Mangans : one well known to the Muses, the other to the 
police; one soared through the empyrean and sought the 
stars — the other lay too often in gutters of Peter Street 
and Bride Street. I have read the lives and sufferings 
of Edgar Poe and Richard Savage. Neither was so con- 
summate a poet, neither so miserable a mortal. Yet in 
one respect poor Mangan compares favorably with them 
both ; he had no malignity, sought no revenge, never 
wrought sorrow and suffering to any human being but 
himself. In his deadly struggle with the cold world he 
wore no defiant air and attitude; was always humble, 
affectionate, almost prayerful. He was never of the 
' Satanic school,' never devoted mankind to the infernal 
gods, nor cursed the sun ; but the cry of his spirit was 
ever : Miserable man that I am, who will deliver me from 



371 

the wrath to come ! ' Every man holds, chained up within 
him, a madman,' so it is written; and nothing is more 
fearful than to watch in some men how perilously their 
maniac inmates tug at the chain, and to think — If a link 
should break now ? The life of such a being is the life of 
Homer's mariners rushing through a stormy sea at twelve 
knots, in the dead of night — inside, you have still a cabiu- 
lamp burning, and air to breathe, and human companion- 
ship ; without, the infinite black waste of the roaring, 
ravening sea, and between these, trembling and. creaking, 
a half inch plank ; let the plank but start, and your lamp 
and life are extinguished in the foaming whirl. Poor 
Mangan's lamp, though often sadly dimmed by thick va- 
pors of sickness, and horror, and shame, yet burned still 
(somewhat blue), and lighted his pathway to the grave." 

Schiller shared the poet's too common fate; his whole 
life was a continual struggle, either with poverty or dis- 
ease, but it was a noble struggle, and a glorious victory. 

"What an example to mankind : always sick, yet never 
complaining, always cheerful and industrious. Who can 
point to a line in his writings, revealing to us what he 
suffered in body 1 Friendship and employment were his, 
and his heart was contented, even happy. Thus he sings : 

" Von all dem rauschenden Geleite 

Wer harrte liebend bei mir aus ? 
"Wer steht mir troestend noch zur Seite 

Und folgt mir bis zum finstern Haus? 
Du, die du alle "Wunden heilest, 

Der Freundschaft leise, zarte Hand, 
Des Lebens Buerden liebend theilest, 

Du, die ich fruehe sucht' und fand. 

u Und du, die gern sich mit ihr gattet, 
Wie sie, der Seele Sturm beschwoert, 
Beschaeftigung, die nie ermattet, 
Die langsam schafft, doch nie zerstoert, 



372 

Die zu dem Bau der Ewigkeiten 

Zwar Sandkorn nur fuer Sandkorn reicht, 
Doch von der grossen Schuld der Zeiten 
Minuten, Tage, Jahre streicht." 

Had Mangan, and our own Poe, only sought oblivion 
in severe study, where poor, sick Schiller found an earthly 
Paradise, how much better for them and theirs ; what a 
blessing the fruits of their labor might have been to pos- 
terity ; what a victory their example for humanity. 

"It is singular," observed Eckermann, " that we gen- 
erally find persons of distinguished talents — especially 
poets — with very weak constitutions." "Their extraordi- 
nary performances," replies Goethe, "show that they are 
of uncommon delicate organization, which causes them 
to hear so easily the celestial voices. Such an organiza- 
tion is soon injured or destroyed by conflict with the 
world and the elements ; and he who does not combine 
with great sensibility an equal share of tenacity must lose 
his health entirely. Schiller was always ill. "When I 
first knew him, I thought he had not a month to live ; 
but he had something of the tenacity that I speak of; he 
sustained himself many years, and would have done so 
longer if he could have lived in a way more favorable to 
health." 

THE LAY OF THE BELL. 

VIVOS VOCO. MORTUOS PLANGO. FULGURA FRANGO. 
PREPARATION FOR POUNDING THE BELL. 

Eirmly walled within the soil 

Stands the firebaked mould of clay. 
Courage, comrades 1 Now for toil 1 
Eor we cast the Bell to-day. 

Sweat must trickle now 
Down the burning brow, 
If the work may boast of beauty ; 
Still 'tis Heaven must bless our duty. 



373 

A word of earnest exhortation 

The serious task before us needs : 
Beguiled by cheerful conversation, 

How much more lightly toil proceeds I 
Then let us here, with best endeavor, 

Weigh well what these our labors mean : 
Contempt awaits that artist ever 

Who plods through all, the mere machine j 
But Thought makes man to dust superior, 

And he alone is thoughtfulsouled 
Who ponders in his heart's interior 

Whatever shape his hand may mould. 

Gather first the pine-tree wood, 

Only be it wholly dry, 
That the flame, with subtle flood, 
Through the furnace-chink may fly. 
Now the brass is in, 
Add the alloy of tin, 
That the ingredients may, while warm, 
Take the essential fluid form. 

OFFICES OF THE BELL. 

What here in caverns by the power 

Of fire our mastering fingers frame, 
Hereafter from the belfry tower 

Will vindicate its maker's aim ; 
'Twill speak to Man with voice unfailing 

In latest years of after-days, 
Will echo back the mourner's wailing, 

Or move the heart to prayer and praise : 
In many a varying cadence ringing, 

The willing Bell will publish far 
The fitful changes hourly springing 

Beneath Man's ever-shifting star. 

Surface-bubbles glittering palely 

Show the mixture floweth well: 
54 



374 

Mingle now the quick alcali; 
That will help to found the Bell. 

Purified from scum 

Must the mass become. 
That the tone, escaping free, 
Clear and deep and full may be. 

THE BIRTH-DAT BELL. 

For, with a peal of joyous clangor 

It hails the infant boy, that in 
The soft embrace of sleep and languor • 

Life's tiring travel doth begin. 
His brighter lot and darker doom 
Lie shrouded in the Future's womb. 
"Watched over by his tender mother, 
His golden mornings chase each other ; 
Swift summers fly like javelins by. 
The woman's yoke the stripling spurneth ; 

He rushes wildly forth to roam 
The wide world over, and returneth 

When years have wheeled — a stranger — home. 
Arrayed in Beauty's magic might, 

A vision from the Heaven that's o'er him, 
W r ith conscious blush and eye of light, 

The bashful virgin stands before him. 
Then flies the youth his wonted sports, 

For in his heart a nameless feeling 
Is born ; the lonesome dell he courts, 

And down his cheek the tears are stealing. 
He hangs upon her silver tone, 

He tracks with joy her very shadow, 
And culls, to deck his lovely one, 

The brightest flowers that gem the meadow. 
Oh, golden time of Love's devotion, 

When tenderest hopes and thrills have birth, 
When hearts are drunk with blest emotion, 

And Heaven itself shines out on Earth 1 



375 

"Were thy sweet season ever vernal ! 
"Were early Youth and Love eternal 

Ha ! the pipes appear embrowned, 

So this little staff I lower : 
'Twill be time, I wis, to found, 
If the fluid glaze it o'er. 

Courage, comrades ! Move ! 
Quick the mixture prove. 
If the soft hut well unite 
"With the rigid, all is right. 

THE WEDDING-BELL. 

For, where the Strong protects the Tender, 
"Where Might and Mildness join, they render 

A sweet result, content ensuring ; 
Let those then prove who make election, 
That heart meets heart in blent affection, 
Else Bliss is brief, and Grief enduring ! 
In the bride's rich ringlets brightly 

Shines the flowery coronal, 
As the Bell, now pealing lightly, 

Bids her to the festal hall. 
Fairest scene of Man's elysian 

"World ! thou closest life's short May: 
"With the zone and veil* the Vision 
Melts in mist and fades for aye I 
The rapture has fled, 

Still the love has not perished ; 
The blossom is dead, 

But the fruit must be cherished. 



* Mit dem Guertel, mit dem Sehleier, 
Reiszt der sclioene Wahn entzweii. 
Schiller here alludes to that custom of antiquity according to which 
the bridegroom unloosed the zone and removed the veil of his be- 
trothed. Among the ancients, to unbind the cestus, and to espouse, were 
expressions meaning the same thing. Hence the well-known line of 
Catullus : 

" Quod possit zonam solvere virgineam." 



376 

The husband must out, 

He must mix in the rout, 

In the struggle and strife 

And the clangor of life, 

Must join in its jangle, 

Must wrestle and wrangle, 

O'erreaching, outrunning, 

By force and by cunning, 

That Fortune propitious 

May smile on his wishes. 
Then riches flow in to his uttermost wishes , 
His warehouses glitter with all that is precious j 

The storehouse, the mansion, 

Soon call for expansion, 

And busied within is 

The orderly matron, 

The little ones' mother, 

Who is everywhere seen 

As she rules like a queen, 

The instructress of maidens 

And curber of boys ; 

And seldom she lingers 

In plying her fingers, 

But doubles the gains 

By her prudence and pains, 
And winds round the spindle the threads at her leisure, 
And fills odoriferous coffers with treasure, 
And storeth her shining receptacles full 
Of snowy-white linen and pale-colored wool, 
And blends with the Useful the Brilliant and Pleasing, 
And toils without ceasing. 
And the father counts his possessions now, 
As he paces his house's commanding terrace, 
And he looks around with a satisfied brow 
On his pillar-like trees in rows unending, 
And his barns and rooms that are filling amain, 



377 

And his granaries under their burden bending, 
And his wavy fields of golden grain, 
And speaks with exultation, 
" Fast as the Earth's foundation, 
Against all ill secure, 
Long shall my house endure !" 
But ah ! with Destiny and Power 
No human paction lasts an hour, 
And Kuin rides a restless courser. 

Good ! The chasm is guarded well ; 

Now, my men I commence to found; 
Yet, before ye run the Bell, 

Breathe a prayer to Heaven around ! 
Wrench the stopple-cork! 
God protect our work ! 
Smoking to the bow it flies, 
While the flames around it rise. 

THE EIRE-BELL. 

Fire works for good with noble force 
So long as Man controls its course ; 
And all he rears of strong or slight 
Is debtor to this heavenly might. 
But dreadful is this heavenly might 
When, bursting forth in dead of night, 
Unloosed and raging, wide and wild 
It ranges, Nature's chainless child I 
Woe ! when oversweeping bar, 

With a fury nought can stand, 
Through the stifled streets afar 

Bolls the monstrous volume brand I 
For the elements ever war 

With the works of human hand. 
From the cloud 

Blessings gush ; 
From the cloud 
Torrents rush ; 



378 

From the cloud alike 

Come the bolts that strike. 

Larum peals from lofty steeple 

Eouse the people ! 

Bed, like blood, 
Heaven is flashing ! 

How it shames the daylight's flood I 
Hark! what crashing 

Down the streets ! 

Smoke ascends in volumes ! 

Skyward flares the flame in columns ! 

Through the tent-like lines of streets 

Bapidly as wind it fleets ! 

Now the white air, waxing hotter, 

Glows a furnace — pillars totter — 
Bafters crackle — casements rattle — 

Mothers fly — 

Children cry — 
Under ruins whimper cattle. 

All is horror, noise, affright I 

Bright as noontide glares the night ! 
Swung from hand to hand with zeal along 
By the throng, 
Speeds the pail. In bow-like form 

Sprays the hissing watershower, 
But the madly-howling storm 

Aids the flames with wrathful power ; 
Bound the shrivelled fruit they curl ; 

Grappling with the granary-stores, 

Now they blaze through roof and floors, 
And with upward-dragging whirl, 
Even as though they strove to bear 
Earth herself aloft in air, 

Shoot into the vaulted Yoid, 
Giant-vast ! 
Hope is past : 



379 

Man submits to God's decree, 
And, all stunned and silently, 
Sees his earthly All destroyed ! 

Burned a void 

Is the dwelling : 

Winter winds its wailing dirge are knelling; 

In the skeleton window-pits 

Horror sits, 

And exposed to Heaven's wide woof 

Lies the roof. 

One glance only 

On the lonely 

Sepulchre of all his wealth below 

Doth the man bestow ; 

Then turns to tread the world's broad path. 

It matters not what wreck the wrath 

Of fire hath brought on house and land, 
One treasured blessing still he hath, 

His Best Beloved beside him stand I 

Happily at length, and rightly, 
Doth it fill the loamy frame : 
Think ye, will it come forth brightly? 
"Will it yet fulfil our aim ? 
If we fail to found ? 
If the mould rebound ? 
Ah ! perchance, when least we deem, 
Fortune may defeat our scheme. 

In hope our work we now confide 

To Earth's obscure but hallowed bosom; 

Therein the sower, too, doth hide 

The seed he hopes shall one day blossom, 

If bounteous Heaven shall so decide. 



880 

But holier, dearer Seed than this 
We bury oft, with tears, in Earth, 

And trust that from the Grave's abyss 
'Twill bloom forth yet in brighter birth. 

THE PASSING BELL. 

Hollowly and slowly, 

By the Bell's disastrous tongue, 
Is the melancholy 

Knell of death and burial rung. 
Heavily those muffled accents mourn 
Some one journeying to the last dark bourne. 

Ah 1 it is the spouse, the dear one 1 
Ah ! it is that faithful mother ! 
She it is that thus is borne, 
Sadly borne and rudely torn 
By the sable Prince of Spectres 
Erom her fondest of protectors — 
From the children forced to flee 
Whom she bore him lovingly, 
Whom she gazed on day and nigh,t 
With a mother's deep delight. 
Ah ! the house's bands, that held 

Each to each, are doomed to sever: 
She that there as mother dwelled 

Koams the Phantomland forever. 
Truest friend and best arranger ! 

Thou art gone, and gone for aye ; 
And a loveless hireling stranger 

O'er thine orphaned ones will sway. 

Till the Bell shall cool and harden, 
Labor's heat a while may cease ; 

Like the wild bird in the garden, 
Each may play or take his ease. 



381 

Soon as twinkles Hesper, 
Soon as chimes the Vesper, 

All the workman's toils are o'er, 

But the master frets the more. 

Wandering througli the lonely greenwood, 

Blithely hies the merry rover 

Forward towards his humble hovel. 

Bleating sheep are homeward wending, 

And the herds of 

Sleek and broad-browed cattle come with 

Lowing warning 

Each to fill its stall till morning. 

Townward rumbling 
Reels the wagon, 
Corn-o'erladen, 
On whose sheaves 
Shine the leaves 
Of the Garland fair, 
"While the youthful band of reapers 
. To the dance repair. 
Street and market now grow stiller : 
Eound the social hearth assembling, 
G-ayly crowd the house's inmates, 
As the towngate closes creaking ; 
And the earth is 
Eobed in sable, 

But the night, which wakes affright 
In the souls of conscience-haunted men, 
Troubles not the tranquil denizen, 
For he knows the eye of Law unsleeping 
Watch is keeping. 

Blessed Order ! heaven descended 

Maiden ! Early did she band 
Like with like, in union blended, 

Social cities early planned; 
65 



382 

She the fierce barbarian brought 
From his forest-haunts of wildness; 

She the peasant's hovel sought, 

And redeemed his mind to mildness, 

And first wove that everdearest band, 

Fond attachment to our Fatherland; 

Thousand hands in ceaseless motion 

All in mutual aid unite, 
Every art with warm devotion 

Eager to reveal its might. 
All are bonded in affection ; 

Each rejoicing in his sphere, 
Safe in Liberty's protection, 

Laughs to scorn the scoffer's sneer. 
Toil is polished Man's vocation: 

Praises are the meed of Skill ; 
Kings may vaunt their crown and station, 

We will vaunt our Labor still. 

Mildest Quiet ! 

Sweetest Concord I 

Gently, gently 

Hover over this our town I 

Ne'er may that dark day be witnessed 

"When the dread exterminators 

Through our vales shall rush, destroying, 

"When that azure 

Softly painted by the rays of 

Sunset fair 
Shall (oh, horror!) with the blaze of 

Burning towns and hamlets glare! 

Now, companions, break the mould, 
For its end and use have ceased : 

On the structure 'twill unfold 
Soul and sight alike shall feast. 



383 

Swing the hammer ! Swing! 

Till the covering spring. 
Shivered first the mould must lie 
Ere the Bell may mount on high. 

The Master's hand, what time he wills, 
May break the mould ; but woe to ye 
If, spreading far in fiery rills, 

The glowing ore itself shall free ! 
"With roar as when deep thunder crashes 
It blindly blasts the house to ashes, 
And as from Hell's abysmal deep 
The deathtide rolls with lava sweep. 
"Where lawless force is awless master 

Stands nought of noble, nought sublime; 

Where freedom comes achieved by Crime 
Her fruits are tumult and disaster. 

THE TOCSIN, OR ALARM-BELL. 

Woe ! when in cities smouldering long 

The pent-up train explodes at length ! 
Woe 1 when a vast and senseless throng 

Shake off their chains by desperate strength ! 
Then to the bellrope rushes Blot, 

And rings, and sounds the alarm afar, 
And, destined but for tones of quiet, 

The Tocsin peals To War ! To War 1 

" Equality and Liberty ! " 

They shout: the rabble seize on swords; 
And streets and halls* fill rapidly 

With cutthroat gangs and ruffian hordes. 
Then women change to wild hyenas, 

And mingle cruelty with jest, 
And o'er their prostrate foe are seen, as 

With panther-teeth they tear his breast. 

* Die Strassen fuellen sich, die Hallen— Schiller means public halls, 
as the Town Hall, the Halls of Justice, etc. 



884 

All holy shrines go trampled under: 

The Wise and Good in horror flee ; 
Life's shamefaced bands are ripped asunder, 

And cloakless Eiot wantons free. 
The lion roused by shout of stranger, 

The tiger's talons, these appal — 
But worse, and charged with deadlier danger, 

Is reckless Man in Frenzy's thrall ! 
"Woe, woe to those who attempt illuming 

Eternal blindness by the rays 
Of Truth ! — they flame abroad, consuming 

Surrounding nations in their blaze ! 

God hath given my soul delight I 

Glancing like a star of gold, 
Prom its shell, all pure and bright, 
Comes the metal kernel rolled. 
Brim and rim, it gleams 
As when sunlight beams ; 
And the armorial shield and crest 
Tell that Art hath wrought its best. 

In, in ! our task is done — 

In, in, companions every one ! 

By what name shall we now baptize the Bell? 

Concordia will become it well : 

For oft in concord shall its pealing loud 

Assemble many a gay and many a solemn crowd. 

THE DESTINATION OF THE BELL. 

And this henceforward be its duty, 

For which 'twas framed at first in beauty : 

High o'er this world of lowly labor 

In heaven's blue concave let it rise, 
And heave aloft, the thunder's neighbor, 

In commerce with the starry skies. 



385 

There let it chorus with the story 

Of the resplendent planetsphere, 
Which nightly hymns its Maker's glory, 

And guides the garland-crowned year. 
Be all its powers devoted only 

To things eternal and sublime, 
As hour by hour it tracks the lonely 

And for ward- winging flight of Time I 
To destiny an echo lending, 

But never doomed itself to feel, 
Forever be it found attending 

Each change of Life's revolving wheel j 
And as its tone, when tolling loudest, 

Dies on the listener's ear away, 
So let it teach that all that's proudest 

In human might must thus decay! 

Now attach the ropes — now move, 

Heave the Bell from this its prison, 
Till it hath to Heaven above 
And the realm of Sound arisen. 
Heave it ! heave it ! — there — 
Now it swings in air. 
Joy to this our city may it presage ! 
Peace attend its first harmonious message ! 

James Clarence Mangan. 

VEKSIONS OF "THE DESTINATION OF THE 
BELL." 

Merivale : 

And oh, be this its glad vocation — 
The destined end of its creation ! 
High raised above this nether world, 

In Heaven's blue canopy to swing, 
And, whence the thunderbolts are hurled 

Its loud responsive voice to fling. 



386 

There shall its clear-toned notes resemble 

The hymnings of the Starry Choir, 
Round which the planets move and tremble 

In Praises of the Almighty Sire ; 
While, listening to the Angelic song, 
They lead the wreath-crowned Year along. 
To themes eternal welfare bringing 

We consecrate its brazen chime, 
As, hour by hour, its hammer swinging 

Shall touch the waving wings of Time ; 
Shall lend its tongue for Fate to borrow — ■ 
Itself unfeeling Joy or Sorrow ; 
Still with its hollow boom attending 
Life's changeful drama to its ending : 
And, as each clang, so solemn sounding 

Faint vibrates on the listener's ear, 
O let it teach — his pride confounding — 

That nothing is perpetual here. 

Dwight : 

Be this its calling — this the mind 

Of the Master first designed — 

On high, above the gross earth sweeping, 

Within the purer air of day, 
Amid the stars its vigils keeping, 

Familiar with the lightning's play, — 
There shall it seem a voice above, 

E'en as the starry hosts appear 
To praise their great Creator's love, 

As they lead in the rosy year. 
Of solemn and eternal things 

Let it discourse from mouth of brass ; 
And let the Hours with rapid wings 

Fail not to stir it as they pass. — 
To dumb Fate it a tongue shall lend; 

Heartless itself, not made to feel, 



387 

Yet shall its swinging strokes attend 
Each turning of life's giddy wheel. 

And as its peal upon the ear 
Palls heavily and dies away, 

'Twill teach how nought ahideth here, 
How all things earthly must decay. 

Bulwer : 

May she the destined glory win 

For which the Master sought to frame her- 
Aloft — (all earth's existence under), 

In blue pavilioned heaven afar 
To dwell — the Neighbor of the Thunder, 

The Borderer of the Star! 
Be hers above a voice to raise 

Like those bright hosts in yonder sphere, 
"Who, while they move, their Maker praise, 

And lead around the wreathed year. 
To solemn and eternal things 

¥e dedicate her lips sublime, 
As hourly, calmly, on she swings, 

Touching, with every movement, Time! 
No pulse — no heart — no feeling hers, 

She lends the warning voice to Fate ; 
And still companions, while she stirs, 

The changes of the Human State I 
So may she teach us, as her tone, 

But now so mighty, melts away — 
That earth no life which earth has known 

From the last silence can delay. 

Bowring : 

And this be the vocation fit 
For which the founder fashioned it 1 
High, high above earth's life, earth's labor, 
E'en to the heav'ns' blue vault to soar, 



388 

To hover as the thunder's neighbor, 

The very firmament explore ; 
To be a voice as from above, 

Like yonder stars so bright and clear, 
That praise their Maker as they move, 

And usher in the circling year. 
Tuned be its metal mouth alone 

To things eternal and sublime, 
And, as the swift-winged hours speed on, 

May it record the flight of time ! 
Its tongue to Fate it well may lend ; 

Heartless itself, and feeling nought, . 
May with its warning notes attend 

On human life, with change so fraught. 
And, as the strains die on the ear 

That it peals forth with tuneful might, 
So let it teach that nought lasts here, 

That all things earthly take their flight! 

Baskerville : 
And this be henceforth her vocation, 
The end and aim of her creation ; 

Above this nether world shall she 
In Heaven's azure vault appear, 

The neighbor of the thunder be, 
And border on the starry sphere ; 

A voice from Heaven shall she be, 
Like yonder host of stars so clear, 

"Who laud their Maker as they flee, 
And lead the varied wreath-crowned year. 

To earnest and eternal things 
Devoted be her metal tongue, 

And as she hourly, swiftly swings, 
Be none of Time's great deeds unsung ! 

And let her be the tongue of fate, 
Though heart nor feeling she can claim, 

And rocking to and fro relate 



389 

Of life the ever changing game I 

And as the sound dies on the ear, 
That makes the welkin ring on high, 

So may she teach this truth severe, 
All earthly grandeur soon must die. 

8. A. Eliot: 
Be this henceforth the destined end 
To which the finished work we send, 
High over every meaner thing, 

In the blue canopy of heaven, 
Near to the thunder let it swing, 

A neighbor to the stars be given. 
Let its clear voice above proclaim, 

With brightest troops of distant suns, 
The praise of our Creator's name, 

While round each circling season runs. 
To solemn thoughts of heart-felt power 

Let its deep note full oft invite, 
And tell, with every passing hour, 

Of hastening time's unceasing flight. 
Still let it mark the course of fate ; 

Its cold, unsympathizing voice 
Attend on every changing state 

Of human passions, griefs, and joys. 
And as the mighty sound it gives 

Dies gently on the listening ear, 
We feel how quickly all that lives 

Must change, and fade, and disappear. 

Note n, p. 260. 

See Piccolomini, Act ii, Scene vi ; and The Death of 
Wallenstein, Act v, Scene iii. The following interesting 
note, relating to this subject, we have taken from Meri- 
vale: " The anecdote attached to this beautiful effusion, 
is, that a lady of Schiller's acquaintance once playfully 
56 



.390 

told him that she had seen the ghost of Thekla, and asked 
what had become of her after parting from the stage in 
the third part of Wallenstein ? — but that the spirit van- 
ished without answering the question. Schiller promised 
that he would bring the answer to her, and soon after- 
wards produced this copy of verses, as a verse from the 
departed. The allusions which it contains will be best 
understood from the following speech of Max in the 
tragedy of the Piccolomini, which I subjoin, in Cole- 
ridge's version, not only as a faithful transcript of the 
original, but as having very probably suggested to his 
brother poet, Wordsworth, some of those images in the 
Excursion which I have before supposed might be de- 
rived from the " Goettern Griechenlands." 

" O, never rudely will I blame his faith 
In the might of stars and angels! 'Tis not merely 
The human being's Pride that peoples space 
"With life and mystical predominance ; 
Since likewise for the stricken heart of Love 
This visible nature, and this common world, 
Is all too narrow: yea, a deeper import 
Lurks in the legend told my infant years 
Than lies upon that truth, we live to learn. 
For Fable is Love's world, his home, his birth-place; 
Delightedly dwells he 'mong fays and talismans, 
And spirits; and delightedly believes 
Divinities, being himself divine. 
The intelligible forms of ancient poets, 
The fair humanities of old religion, 
The power, the beauty, and the majesty, 
That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, 
Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, 
Or chasms and wat'ry depths; all these have vanished; 
They live no longer in the faith of reason ! 
But still the heart doth need a language, still 
Doth the old instinct bring back the old names, 



391 

Lnd to yon starry world they now are gone, 
Spirits or gods, that used to share this earth 
With man as with their friend ; and to the lover 
Yonder they move, from yonder visible sky 
Shoot influence down ; and even at this day 
; Tis Jupiter, who brings whate'er is great, 
And Yenus, who brings everything that's fair." 



We also add, for various reasons, two other versions of 
this poem. 

THEKLA— A SPIKIT'S YOICE. 

Where am I, askest thou, and where ascended 
My shadowy nature from its earthly strife? 

Was not my fate fulfilled, my being ended? 
I loved, and, loving, drained the cup of Life. 

The nightingales in melody departed, 

Whose swelling notes poured rapture on the Spring ; 
But ask not where they fled, the tender-hearted! 

They only lived their note of love to sing. 

And have I found the lost one ? Yes ! believe me, 

We are together, ever to remain, 
Where hopes are real, — faith will not deceive me, — 

A land where tears will never flow again. 

And in that land of union thou shalt meet us, 
If, like our love, thy love be firm and true ; 

And then the father, freed from sin, shall greet us, 
Freed from the hand of bloody murder too. 

He feels he was by no false thought deceived, 
When to the stars he looked with trust and fear. 

The measure, which he gave, he has received — 
Faith in the Holy brings the Holy near. 



392 

Then shall be realized each word of love — 
Paith be rewarded then in sun-lit day — 

O, venture, then, on earth to dream and rove I 
Deep meaning often lies in childish play. 

James F. Clarke. 



THEKLA'S SONG: 

OR, THE VOICE OE A SPIRIT. 

Ask'st thou my home ? — my pathway wouldst thou know, 
When from thine eye my floating shadow passed? 

Was not my work fulfilled and closed below ? 
Had I not lived and loved ? — my lot was cast. 

Wouldst thou ask where the nightingale is gone, 

That melting into song her soul away, 
Gave the spring-breeze what witched thee in its tone ? 

— But while she loved, she lived, in that deep lay I 

Think'st thou my heart its lost one hath not found? 

— Yes I we are one, oh ! trust me, we have met, 
Where nought again may part what love hath bound, 

Where falls no tear, and whispers no regret. 

There shalt thou find us, there with us be blest, 

If as our love thy love is pure and true ! 
There dwells my father, sinless and at rest,. 

Where the fierce murderer may no more pursue. 

And well he feels, no error of the dust 

Drew to the stars of Heaven his mortal ken, 

There it is with us, e'en as is our trust, 
He that believes, is near the holy then. 



393 

There shall each feeling beautiful and high, 
Keep the sweet promise of its earthly day; 

— Oh I fear thou not to dream with waking eye I 
There lies deep meaning oft in childish play. 

Mrs. Felicia Hemans. 



Note o, p. 261. 

Naenia was the Goddess of Funerals, and funeral songs 
were called Nasniae. . . B. 



Note j;?, p. 262. 

In Meri vale's notes, we find the following charming 
translation of Koerner's beautiful Cradle-Song (Wiegen- 
lied), a poem somewhat similar to this : 

Softly slumber, on thy Mother resting ! 

Yet thou knowest not Life's joy and woe. 
Painful thoughts are none, thy sleep molesting — 

That fond breast is all thy world below. 

Sweet we dream the hours of life's first wakening, 
When her love that bore us still sustains : 

Memory tells not of them in her reckoning — 
Trembling consciousness alone remains. 

Thrice to Man such sweet embrace is given ; 

Thrice the boon is sent him from on high : 
Blissful rapt in Love's entrancing Heaven, 

To believe life's higher destiny. 

Love his earliest day beholds and blesses — 
Peaceful joys the new-born babe surround ; 

All is bright that his fresh glance addresses, 
To his Mother's breast by Love still bound. 



394 

But when, clouds on clouds thick gathering o'er him, 
Soon the young Man's path in darkness lies, 

Then a second time Love steals before him, 
And to his adored one's arms he flies. 

But in storm the flower's frail stem must shiver, 
And in storm Man's heart at length be riven. 

Then, Death's Angel hastening to deliver, 
Love will bear him to the gates of Heaven. 

L. 

Note q, p. 265. 

We are also indebted to Merivale for the following: 
"Among the various works on the sources of pleasure 
which we derive from the contemplation of the Sublime 
and Beautiful, to which the general term of Esthetic has 
been applied, there is none which has more successfully- 
treated of the principle of Intricacy in Action, which he 
illustrates by the movements of the Country dance, than 
Hogarth, in his Analysis of Beauty ; and the happy quota- 
tions which he applies to that old and graceful, though 
now almost exploded, species of the Saltatory Art, may 
be with equal justice transferred to the German Waltz, 
which, of course, was the form of dance before Schiller's 
eyes at the time of writing these verses — as in the ' Win- 
ter's Tale:' 

' When you do dance, I wish you 
A wave of the sea, that you might ever do 
Nothing but that; move still, still so, and own 
No other function ' — 

And in the ' Paradise Lost,' 

' Mystical dance ! — 

— Mazes intricate, 

Eccentric, intervolved, yet regular, 

Then most, when most irregular they seem.'" 



395 



Note r, p. 298. 

Carlyle, in speaking of Coleridge's success as a trans- 
lator, pays him the following handsome and well-deserved 
compliment: "Mr. Coleridge's translation (of Wallen- 
stein) is, as a whole, unknown to us; but judging from 
many large specimens, we should pronounce it, excepting 
Sotheby's Oberon, to be the best, indeed, the only suffer- 
able translation from the German with which our liter- 
ature has yet been enriched." Bulwer thus speaks of 
Coleridge's translations of The Epic Hexameter and. The 
Elegiac Metre : 

" I have ventured to borrow these two translations 
from Coleridge's poems, because what Coleridge did well, 
no living man could have the presumptuous hope to im- 
prove." Many English and American writers tell us, 
that the old classical metres are a success in the German; 
we do not think so. Goethe, in a letter from Rome, dated 
January 10th, 1787, acknowledges that they are not a 
complete success. " We meet," he writes, "in our own 
language, with but few syllables that are decidedly either 
long or short." Schlegel says : 

"Hexameter zu machen, 
Die weder hinken noch krachen, 
Das sind nicht Jedermann's Sachen." 

We do not understand why the classical metres cannot 
be as successfully treated in the English, as they are in 
the German. Coleridge's translations of Schiller's Hexa- 
meters and Pentameters, are, in our opinion, sufficient to 
show that the English language is as flexible to them, as 
to the German — only needing fit exponents. We only 
speak of the possibility of making the old classical metres 
as agreeable and familiar to the English ear, as the Ger- 
mans have made them to theirs. Unfortunately, the 
names we can place in comparison with Klopstock, Yoss, 
Goethe, Schiller, and Wolf, writers that have met with 



396 

considerable success in the use of the Hexameter, are in- 
deed few, — but wherefore blame our language ? We are 
taught that the beauty of the Hexameter, consists for the 
greater part in this, that, although the metre may be 
continually changing, the rhythm remains unaffected. 
The rules laid down by the Greeks for the government 
of the heroic Hexameter, have been so enlarged by the 
Moderns, owing to the idiomatic construction of the lan- 
guages, that we find few Hexameters in any of the modern 
languages at all agreeable. Since the Genius of the Eng- 
lish and the German languages will not allow writers to 
imitate the pure Hellenic Hexameter with perfect success, 
authorities endeavor to mould it to suit their language, 
and thus it loses its individuality ; besides, any variations 
from the pure dactylic measure, except such as were al- 
lowed by the Ancients, must disturb the regularity of the 
rhythmical pulsation. Dr, Anster says upon this subject : 

"The Greek cast it is impossible altogether to attain. 
The Komans never quite succeeded — neither, to my mind, 
have the Germans. I suspect it to be practicable in Eng- 
lish ; but even Coleridge failed." 

This brings back to memory the Xenien "War, which al- 
ways has had a peculiar fascination. The most stubborn 
adversary, perhaps, that Goethe and Schiller (the editors 
of the Xenien) had in this contest, was Nicolai of Berlin. 

Nicolai speaks of "the many wrong-headed philoso- 
phers who destroy our German literature by a mass of writ- 
ings pretending to depth, and only filled with transcend- 
ental chimeras of the brain." Schiller in a letter to his 
friend Koerner, says : "The Horen is now attacked on all 
sides, especially my letters ; but by such trivial and con- 
temptible (eselhaften — of the ass species) adversaries, 
that there could be no pleasure in offering a single word 
in reply; in the Annals, in Dyk's Library, and finally in 
Nicolai's tenth volume of his Travels, published at Berlin. 
But this last and dullest customer shall not be passed over 
altogether in silence. Wolf, of Halle, has made a fierce 



397 

attack, in the Literary Gazette, on Herder, on account of 
his Homer. Herder will not reply to it ; and, in truth, 
it would be no easy task to commence a dispute with 
Wolf upon Homer." 

The strongest lines Schiller wrote were on Nicolai : 

An Empirical Oddity. 
" Poor devil I Groping after all the drivellers before ye ; — 
Your dulness was not all your own ; you had it d, priori." 
But the best, or rather the worst, squib, or anti-Xenien 
as they were called, produced by the Xenien War, is the 
following, by the same incorrigible, pedantic, but witty, 
Nicolai ; the Germans, we believe, call it the Ochsiade: 

" In Jena | und "Wei | mar, da j macht man | Hexa | 

meter, 
Und die | Pentame | ter || sind noch | viel schlech | ter." 

We have also seen the following : 
"In Jena und Weimar macht man Hexameter wie der, 
Und die Pentameter sind noch erbaermlicher." 

It is impossible for us to give a satisfactory translation. 
The ludicrous part is the measure. 

Schiller writes to Goethe: "I send you another leaf 
of Hexameters, that have been made against you or me 
in Breslau. It is strange that so far all our assailants fail 
in the measure." With respect to the authority of these 
celebrated compositions: "They keep quarreling," says 
Goethe in the Conversations with Eckermann, u as if it 
were of any importance to ascertain which of us really 
wrote them. We made many couplets together ; some- 
times I gave the thought and Schiller the verse; sometimes 
the reverse was the case; sometimes he made one line, 
and I the other. Who but a Philister would care to settle 
the meum and teum! n 

We will here introduce an interesting extract from 
Goethe's writings, upon his friend Schiller : 
57 



398 

" There was something of daemonology in my connection 
with Schiller. It might have taken place at an earlier or 
later period with less importance ; but that it should have 
occurred just at the time it did — when I had done with 
my Italian tour, and when Schiller had begun to grow 
weary of his philosophical speculations — led to great re- 
sults for both of us." — " The public have been quarreling 
these twenty years about which is the greater, Schiller or I. 
They ought to rejoice that they know two men worth quarrel- 
ing about." 

Note s, p. 326. 

There is another translation of this poem, by one of 
the ablest and most successful of American translators, 
N. L. Frothingham. His seems to be a very popular ver- 
sion, having been selected by Longfellow for his " Poets 
and Poetry of Europe," and also by Brooks for his " Ger- 
man Lyrics." For our own part, although Frothingham 
is one of our favorite translators, we are not pleased, com- 
paratively speaking, with his rendition of this poem. He 
introduces too many accidentals, thereby producing dis- 
cord in the chime of the verse. We have given Merivale 
the preference, but, at the same time, here also give 
Frothingham's version, for the benefit of those who may 
think our judgment at fault. 



THE OPENING OF THE NEW CENTUEY. 

1st January, 1800. 

Noble friends ! where now for Peace, worn-hearted, 

Where for Freedom, is a refuge-place? 
For the old century has in storm departed, 
And the new with carnage starts its race. 

And the bond of nations flies asunder, 
And the ancient forms rush to decline ; 

Not the ocean hems the warring thunder, 
Not the Nile-god and the ancient Bhine. 



399 

Two imperious nations are contending 

For one empire's universal field ; 
Liberty from every people rending, 

Thunderbolt and trident do they wield. 

Gold must be weighed them from each country's labor ; 

And, like Brennus in barbarian days, 
See ! the daring Frank his iron sabre 

In the balances of justice lays. 

The grasping Briton his trade-fleets, like mighty 

Arms of the sea-polypus, doth spread ; 
And the realm of unbound Amphitrite 

He would girdle like his own homestead. 

To the South-pole's unseen constellations 
Pierce his keels, unhindered, resting not; 

All the isles, all coasts of farthest nations, 
Spies he, — all but Eden's sacred spot. 

Ah ! in vain on charts of all Earth's order 

Mayst thou seek that bright and blessed shore, 

Where the green of Freedom's garden border, 
"Where man's prime, is fresh for evermore. 

Endless lies the world that thine eye traces, — 
Even Commerce scarcely belts it round ; 

Yet upon its all-unmeasured spaces 
For ten happy ones no room is found. 

On the heart's holy and quiet pinion 

Must thou fly from out this rough life's throng ; 

Freedom lives but within Dream's dominion, 
And the Beautiful blooms but in song. 

JV. L. Frothingham. 



400 

Note i, p. 353. 

We have thought it necessary to alter the final lines of 
Semele, as translated by Heinpel, he having placed an en- 
tirely false construction upon them. 

This is Hempel's version : 

MERCURIUS. 

" Thy Semele sends thee her burning thanks 
And tears of joy — 

ZEUS. 

Destroy her J 

MERCURIUS (amazed.) 
Zeus! 

ZEUS. 

None shall be happy ! 
She dies I " 

[The curtain falls.] 
"What Schiller really meant was this : Zeus gives this 
command to Mercury (page 345). 
" On Scamander's shore 
A shepherdess is slumbering in her grave; 
Her shepherd is bedewing it with tears. 
A 7 o one shall weep when Jupiter is happy 
And loves 1 Call back her into life ! " 

Mercury having obeyed his master's mandate, returns, 
immediately after the success of Juno's conspiracy against 
Semele, with the " burning thanks " of those he has made 
happy. Zeus, being now unhappy, tells him to destroy 
them again, since she (Semele) dies. The idea Schiller 
would convey is : as Zeus is happy or unhappy, so shall 
mortals be. Hempel represents Mercury as coming from 
Semele, without any relation to his mission to the shepherd 
on Scamander's shore, with her burning thanks — where- 
upon Zeus commands him to destroy her. 



401 

In conclusion we will append, for various reasons, sev- 
eral additional translations of merit. 

LONGING. 

Ah ! from forth this darksome valley, 
By the damp chill fogs oppressed, 

Could I find a path to sally, 
Then I should indeed be blessed ! 

Pleasant hills are yonder lying, 

Ever verdant, ever young. 
Were I plumed with wings for flying, 

Soon I'd be those hills among. 

Airs harmonious round me ringing ; 

Sweetest notes of heavenly calm ; 
While the wanton gales are flinging 

O'er my senses odorous balm. 

Golden fruitage see I, glowing, 

Through the dusky foliage, bright; 

And the flowers that there are blowing 
Dread no parching winter's blight. 

Ah ! how beauteous 'twere, arriving 
There where shines eternal day ; 

And the breezes, how reviving 
That upon those summits play. 

But the roaring floods have bound me, 

Fiercely raging as they roll, 
And the billows heave around me, 

Spreading terror o'er my soul. 

. To and fro a bark seems playing, 
But no steersman there to guide: 
Forward then without delaying ! 
Living bounds she o'er the tide. 



402 

Strain by faith -with bold endeavor ! 

No support from Heaven demand 1 
But through wonders canst thou ever 

Eeach that glorious wonderland. 

Florence 



THE PILGEIM. 

Yet was life's gay spring advancing, 
When I wandered forth to roam : 

Youthful song and joyous dancing 
Left I in my Father's Home. 

Goods and heritage forsaking, 

All I gave with spirit free ; 
And the Pilgrim's light staff taking, 

Onward went in childlike glee. 

Mighty was the hope that led me ; 

Faith, though dim, yet bade me cheer; 
Tow'rd the rising Sun it sped me, 

Crying — "On ! the path is clear — 

11 Till at length a golden portal 
Thou shalt reach — there enter in ! 

There shalt Earthly be Immortal, 
Ever freed from death and sin." 

Morn nor evening — never, never — 
Stood I lingering on my way : 

Hidden still, and far as ever, 

That I sought and wished for lay. 

Here the rocky mountain ridges, 
There wild waters hemmed me in ; 

Oft I made me narrow bridges 
O'er the foaming torrent's din : 



403 

Till a river eastward gliding 

Cheered at length my longing view- 
Gladly to its course confiding, 

On its waves my limbs I threw. 

To a shoreless sea it bore me 
"With its billows' eddying roll: 

Yast and drear it spread before me ; 
— I no nearer to the goal. 

To that goal no pathway leadeth. 

Heaven itself, that seemed so near, 
At each step from earth recedeth : 

And the there is never here ! 

F. J5. 



THE YOUTH BY THE BKOOK 

By the brook the boy was seated ; 

Elowers he wove in garland bright : 
And he saw them whirled before him 

In the dancing waters' flight. 
" Even thus my days are speeding, 

Like the stream, in senseless haste; 
And my bloom of youth is wasting, 

E'vn as those bright colors waste! 

" Ask not wherefore thus I languish 

In the flowery prime of life. 
All with joy and hope is teeming 

When the flush of spring is rife. 
But the thousand gladsome voices 

That awakening Nature pours, 
Sound within my saddened bosom 

But to open sorrow's stores. 



404 

<{ What can all the joys avail me, 

Proffered by the lovely May ? 
One there is, my heart still pants for ; 

She is near— yet far away. 
To that form, by fancy cherished, 

Longing, wide my arms I spread. 
Ah ! in vain I strive to grasp it — 

And my heart to joy is dead. 

"Come, O come, thou lovely fair-one! 
Come, and leave yon lordly seat! 

Flowers — the birth of Spring's bright season- 
Free I scatter at thy feet. 

Hark ! the grove with song is ringing, 
And the streamlet ripples clear — 

In the smallest hut is shelter 
For a happy, loving pair." 

L. 



THE DIVEK. 

" Oh, where is the knight or the squire so bold, 
As to dive to the howling Charybdis below? — 

I cast in the whirlpool a goblet of gold, 
And o'er it already the dark waters flow; 

Whoever to me may the goblet bring, 

Shall have for his guerdon that gift of his King." 

He spoke, and the cup from the terrible steep, 
That, rugged and hoary, hung over the verge 

Of the endless and measureless world of the deep, 
Swirled into the maelstrom that maddened the surge. 

"And where is the diver so stout to go — 

I ask ye again — to the deep below?" 



405 

And the knights and the squires that gathered around, 
Stood silent — and fixed on the ocean their eyes ; 

They looked on the dismal and savage Profound, 

And the peril chilled back every thought of the prize. 

And thrice spoke the Monarch — " The cup to win, 

Is there never a wight who will venture in ?" 

And all as before heard in silence the King — 
Till a youth with an aspect unfearing but gentle, 

'Mid the tremulous squires — stept out from the ring, 
Unbuckling his girdle, and doffing his mantle ; 

And the murmuring crowd, as they parted asunder, 

On the stately boy cast their looks of wonder. 

As he strode to the marge of the summit, and gave 
One glance on the gulf of that merciless main, 

Lo ! the wave that forever devours the wave, 
Casts roaringly up the Charybdis again ; 

And as with the swell of the far thunder-boom, 

Eushes foamingly forth from the heart of the gloom. 

And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars, 
As when fire is with water commixed and contending, 

And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars, 
And flood upon flood hurries on, never ending ; 

And it never will rest, nor from travail be free, 

Like a sea that is laboring the birth of a sea. 

Yet, at length, comes a lull o'er the mighty commotion, 
And dark through the whiteness, and still through the 
swell, 
The whirlpool cleaves downward and downward in ocean 

A yawning abyss, like the pathway to hell ; 
The stiller and darker the farther it goes, 
Sucked into that smoothness the breakers repose. 
58 



406 

The youth gave his trust to his Maker ! Before 
That path through the riven abyss closed again, 

Hark ! a shriek from the gazers that circle the shore, — 
And, behold ! he is whirled in the grasp of the main ! 

And o'er him the breakers mysteriously rolled, 

And the giant-mouth closed on the swimmer so bold. 



From the grave of the deep, sounding hollow and fell, 
Or save when the tremulous sighing lament 

Thrilled from lip unto lip, " Gallant youth, fare-thee- 
well!" 
More hollow and more wails the deep on the ear — 
More dread and more dread grows suspense in its fear. 

If thou shouldst in those waters thy diadem fling, 
And cry, " Who may find it shall win it and wear ;" 

God wot, though the prize were the crown of a king — 
A crown at such hazard were valued too dear. 

For never shall lips of the living reveal 

What the deeps that howl yonder in terror conceal. 

Oh, many a bark, to that breast grappled fast, 
Has gone down to the fearful and fathomless grave ; 

Again, crashed together the keel and the mast, 
To be seen tost aloft in the glee of the wave ! 

Like the growth of a storm ever louder and clearer, 

Grows the roar of the gulf rising nearer and nearer. 

And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars, 

As when fire is with water commixed and contending ; 

And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars, 
And flood upon flood hurries on, never ending, 

And as with the swell of the far thunder-boom, 

Bushes roaringly forth from the heart of the gloom. 



407 

And, lo ! from the heart of that far-floating gloom, 
Like the wing of the cygnet — what gleams on the sea? 

Lo ! an arm and a neck glancing up from the tomb ! — 
Steering stalwart and shoreward : O joy, it is he I 

The left hand is lifted in triumph ; behold, 

It waves as a trophy the goblet of gold I 

And he breathed deep, and he breathed long, 
And he greeted the heavenly delight of the day. 

They gaze on each other — they shout as they throng — 
" He lives — lo, the ocean has rendered its prey ! 

And safe from the whirlpool and free from the grave, 

Comes back to the daylight the soul of the brave!" 

And he comes, with the crowd in their clamor and glee ; 

And the goblet his daring has won from the water, 
He lifts to the King as he sinks on his knee ; — 

And the King from her maidens has beckoned his 
daughter. 
She pours to the boy the bright wine which they bring, 
And thus spoke the Diver — " Long life to the King! 

11 Happy they whom the rose-hues of daylight rejoice, 
The air and the sky that to mortals are given ! 

May the horror below nevermore find a voice — 
Nor Man stretch too far the wide mercy of Heaven ! 

Nevermore — nevermore may he lift from the sight 

The veil which is woven with Terror and Night ! 

Quick bright'ning like light'ning the ocean rushed o'er 
me, 

Wild floating, borne down fathom-deep from the day; 
Till a torrent rushed out on the torrents that bore me, 

And doubled the tempest that whirled me away. 
Vain, vain was my struggle — the circle had won me, 
Round and round in its dance the mad element spun me. 



408 

" From the deep then I called upon God— and He heard 
me, 

In the dread of my need, He vouchsafed to mine eye 
A rock jutting out from the grave that interred me; 

I sprung there, I clung there— and Death passed me hy. 
And, lo! where the goblet gleamed through the abyss, 
By a coral reef saved from the far Fathomless : 

" Below, at the foot of that precipice drear, 
Spread the gloomy and purple and pathless Obscure ! 

A silence of Horror that slept on the ear, 

That the eye more appalled might the Horror endure ! 

Salamander, snake, dragon — vast reptiles that dwell 

In the deep — coiled about the grim jaws of their hell. 

" Dark crawled, glided dark the unspeakable swarms, 
Clumped together in masses, misshapen and vast ; 

Here clung and here bristled the fashionless forms; 
Here the dark-moving bulk of the Hammer-fish passed ; 

And, with teeth grinning white and a menacing motion, 

"Went the terrible Shark — the Hyaena of Ocean. 

" There I hung, and the awe gathered icily o'er me, 
So far from the earth, where man's help there was none I 

The One Human Thing, with the Goblins before me — 
Alone — in a loneness so ghastly — Alone ! 

Deep under the reach of the sweet living breath, 

And begirt with the broods of the desert of Death. 

" Methought, as I gazed through the darkness, that now 
It saw — a dread hundred-limbed creature — its prey ! 

And darted, devouring ; I sprang from the bough 
Of the coral, and swept on the horrible way; 

And the whirl of the mighty wave seized me once more, — 

It seized me to save me, and dash to the shore." 



409 

On the youth gazed the Monarch, and marveled: quoth 
he, 

"Bold Diver, the goblet I promised is thine; 
And this ring will I give, a fresh guerdon to thee — 

Never jewels more precious shone up from the mine — 
If thou'lt bring me fresh tidings, and venture again, 
To say what lies hid in the innermost main?" 

Then outspake the daughter in tender emotion — 
11 Ah ! father, my father, what more can there rest? 

Enough of this sport with the pitiless ocean — 

He has served thee as none would, thyself hast confest. 

If nothing can slake thy wild thirst of desire, 

Let thy knights put to shame the exploit of the squire 1 " 

The King seized the goblet, he swung it on high, 
And whirling, it fell in the roar of the tide: 

" But bring back that goblet again to my eye, 
And I'll hold thee the dearest that rides by my side ; 

And thine arms shall embrace as thy bride, I decree, 

The maiden whose pity now pleadeth for thee." 

And heaven, as he listened, spoke out from the space, 
And the hope that makes heroes shot flame from his 
eyes; 

He gazed on the blush in that beautiful face — 
It pales — at the feet of her father she lies ! 

How priceless the guerdon ! — -a moment, a breath, 

And headlong he plunges to life and to death ! 

They hear the loud surges sweep back in their swell, 
Their coming the thunder-sound heralds along I 

Fond eyes yet are tracking the spot where he fell, 
They come, the wild waters, in tumult and throng, 

Roaring up to the cliff — roaring back as before, 

But no wave ever brings the lost youth to the shore I 

Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. 



410 

EITTEE TOGGENBURG. 

11 Knight, a sister's love I render 

Faithfully to thee ; 
Ask from me no thought more tender ; 

It can never be ; 
Calmly must we meet each other, 

Calmly must we part ; 
Love me as a friend and brother ; 

Seek no more my heart." 

Mute with grief the knight beholds her, 

"While his heart-strings bleed ; 
To his breast a moment folds her, 

Springs upon his steed ; 
Then from mountain tops and valleys, 

Armed with cross and brand, 
Trusty Switzers round him rallies 

For the Holy Land. 

Deeds were done of noble daring 

By the hero's might ; 
Toggenburger bravely bearing, 

Foremost in the fight. 
Turk and Moslem, all were frightened, 

At his dreaded name ; 
Still his sorrow is not lightened ; 

Loves he still the same. 

Twelve long months of heavy sadness 

He had borne his pain ; 
Knew he never thought of gladness, 

Peace he could not gain. 
Left the army broken-hearted, 

Saw the loosened sails, 
Longing, loving, home departed, 

Borne by southern gales. 



411 

Darksome was the night, and dreary, 

O'er the pilgrim lone ; 
At her castle knocks he weary, 

Hears the solemn tone : 
" Thou wilt see the loved one never. 

She her vows has given, 
And in convent shade forever 

"Wedded is to Heaven." 

From the castle tower, where lately 

Dwelt in all their pride 
Toggenburger nobles stately, 

Turns he now aside ; 
Casts away his arms so splendid, 

Sets his charger free ; 
Clothed in sackcloth, unattended, 

Wends he mournfully. 

In a neighboring grove, a bower 

With the branches made, 
Where the white- walled cloisters tower 

O'er the linden shade, 
Quiet hope his sorrow lightening, 

Would he sit and wait, 
From the morning's rosy brightening 

Till the twilight late. 

Ever on the cloister gazing, 

Her to see he hoped, 
Looks of longing upward raising 

Till the casement oped ; 
Till appeared the maiden holy, 

Till she gently smiled, 
Toward the valley bending lowly, 

Meek and angel-mild. 



412 

Tranquil-hearted, quiet slumbering, 

Rests he now from pain ; 
Passing moments joyful numbering 

Till light comes again. 
Live long years he sat and waited 

Her dear form to see ; 
True affection unabated, 

"Watching hopefully ; — 

Till appeared the maiden holy, 

Till she gently smiled ; 
Toward the valley bending lowly, 

Meek and angel-mild. 
"Wan and cold, and steadfast gazing, 

Sat he there one morn, 
Looks of fond affection raising ; — 

But the soul was gone. 



W. H. Charming. 



HOPE. 



Men talk, and Men dream, as they onward roll, 

Of better days arriving ; 
And tow'rds some fortunate golden goal 

They are ever pushing and driving. 
The world it grows old, and again grows new, 
And still for The Better they fondly sue. 

With Hope Man enters this world of woe ; 

Hope flits round the boy in his glory ; 
The Youth she inspires with her magic glow, 

Nor is she entombed with the hoary. 
Tho' the grave be his wearisome journey's scope, 
Yet still on its brink he planteth Hope. 



413 

Hope is not an empty flattering cloud, 

Nor did the fool's brain beget her ; 
She speaks from the heart ; and she calls aloud — 

" We are born for Better and Better." 
And that which the inward voice hath spoken 
Is the hopeful Spirit's surest token. 

John Herman Merivale, Esq., F.S.A. 



69 



3. floater's 3? e it lag. U 

Skitter's fawtmtUdje Baft 

in pet toerfdjtefcenen 9iu$galicn. 

Urn filler, ben Sicbling ber beutfd)en Nation, betfen 9came jebem 
teuti'djcn S>crjeu tyetlig tft — ber, nlS Slpoftcl toabrer gret^eit unb 
Smlicbfett, mcbr al3 trgenb etn nnberer (scbnftfteller baju bcigetragen 
Ipt, in ben £>erjcn alier Sruberftdmme bc3 gememfamen $aterlanfcc3 
ben £rang nad) 9Jationaleinf)eit ju entfadjen — wm btefen geifHgen 
£>ro$ alien ^eutfeben 2Imerifa3 &ugangltcb ju madjen, fjaben roir un$ 
ent|d)lo||en, ju (£bren ber nun fo glorrctd) errungenen (Sinljctt uno 
®rb'§e £)eut|'cblanD3 in btefem £anbe ein ©ebddjtni&mal *u errid;ten, 
ta3 ntcljt nur t>e^ gro&en £)id)ter$ roiirbtg, fonbern jugleid; aud; fiir 
fceutl'd^amerifamfcben UnternebmungSgeift efyrenb fein foil. 3 U ^ ( " 
fern 33ct>ufe bieten rotr bem $)ubltfum @ chiller's fdmmtlid;e 
23crfe in jn>ei t> erfd; iebcuen 2lu3gaben, bte cine in 
jrcolf 33anben, fletn £>cta», bte anfcere tft ^roci 23dnben, gro§ Sfcoval- 
format, t>te an (Sleganj, ftrenger (Sorrefttjeit unb btUtgem $mfe allcS 
bid je£t in Slmcrifa ©ebotcne roett btnter fid; lajfen unb felbft ben be- 
fren in 2>cutfcblanb erfebienen SluSgaben in feiner SBcife nacbjtcfyen. 
geft ubcrjcugt, ba& bie[e3 Unternefymen son gldnjcnbcm (Srfolge ge- 
front roerfcen voir*, laben roir alle unfere beuifeben £anbsleute in btefem 
i!anbe gu rcger Unterftii^ung ein. 

©djilUr'S |d'mmtlid;e SBerFe roerben in ben folgenbew 
fiinf serfebjebenen Slugjlattungcn au^gegeben : 

9co. 1, in 12 Sdnben, flein Dctatt, auf febb'nem rocijjem $apter. * 

$rete, brocbtrt in Umfcbjag, @ 23anb 60 

(gebunben in Muslin mtt ©olbtitel, @ SSanb 75 

Somplet, 12 Sdnbe, brocbtrt $7 20 

bo. in 3Jht$ltn gebunben 9 00 

bo. in 6 SBnnbcn, in fyalb Morocco gebunben 10 00 

bo. in 12 23dnben, bo. bo 15 00 

9<o. 2, in 12 Sdnben, auf feinem Sonpapter (tinted paper). 

brocbtrt in Umfcblag, @ Sanb 75 

3n feinem 9D?u3ltn, mtt ®olbtttd, % 23anb 1 25 

bo. bo. mtt ©olbfcbnitt, @ Sanb 1 50 

Gomplet, in 12 23dnben, brocbirt 9 00 

bo. in 12 bo. in feinem SJtoSIin gebunben... 15 00 

bo. in 12 bo. in tyalb Morocco gebunben 20 00 

bo. in 6 bo. bo. bo 15 00 

9co. 3, 9lu3gabe in 2 Sd'nben, grofi S^o^al-Dctaw, auf fc&b'nem 
toei^em papier, in 16 £ieferungcn, jebe cirea 100 @ei- 

ten ftarf, in tlmf(JIag gebeftct @ 25 

Somplet, in 2 23dnben, brocbtrt 4 00 

bo. in 2 bo. in Muslin gebunben 5 50 

bo. in 2 bo. in fyalb Morocco gebunben 6 50 

9to. 4, 5lu^gabe in 2 Sdnben, auf feinem Sonpapter (tinted 
paper), in 16 iHeferungen, jebe circa 100 ©eiten ftarf, 

in llm|d;lag gebeftet @ 35 

(Somplet, in 2 SSdnben, brocbtrt 5 50 

bo. in 2 bo. in tpalb 2ftuSlin gebunben, fctn 7 00 



12 % 5? over's" Scrfag. 

Somjjlet, in 2 23anben, in bafb 2J?arccco gcbuubra $7 50 

to. in 2 to. in M^tarrrco ftcfr.. rttfa fxn 8 5.) 
oo. in 2 bo. inoci[riir!t|6u , tar. / Supefr?ui 1800 
bo. fn J 33nnt, bo. to. re. 12 00 

92 e. 5, SluSgabe tit 2 Santcn, (biCi^c VoftetufgAtr) any gtN 

tern £rncfpapicr, brcdurr 3 Ot) 

8c6om in 'SQiitoItn gcbitntcn 4 » 

@<$fti in halb Sftiirtteo gfbantcn 4 rtfi 

e a? on in 1 JBant reounbeu 3 5'1 

9?on ter Urigfla&e in 2 83&Tbe« iwrben tic rp-:rtrdwn £?cifc, ificr 
Sanb, unb ^rouiifdjc _££crfe, ?rcr 2?anb, niacin vcrfaufr. 

2*on bcr flitggabe iit 12 23antnt ttcrwn <tlle Saftte eiitjfln abjege- 
ben, &a<3 befonters ficr SSt(>f=3£itfKi(Hm &U L'crua'fidHi'gcn ifr. 
Snl)n£t fcerfclbtn: 

1. 23 an b.— $cbt:brc. 

2. 33 a u b. — rfc 9?aub:r. Sdwitfm'ct. 

Tie Siatiber. iraurfoicf. 

Lie ^crf&ivonmi be3 5'ie3co in G5cmia. 

3. 55 ft rt fc— 5MMe unb gfebc. 

©en (Sar!oc>. 

£cr ??u'nfui?nfetiib. 

4. 5? a n b. — SJattcnficin. din bramatifcfccS ©etic§k 

Crjier Xbcii : JSallenftcino i!ager. 
, 2)ie ^icccfomiiit. 

3»citcr Sbcil: *5<HInt#?fn$ Job. 

5. S3 a n b. — 5Kariii Smart. 

•Sungfrnu von £r(can<?. 
£te 23raut ( ocn SWefjinn. 

6. 58 r it b.— 5GtfWm Scfl. 

£ie $u!biyUP(i ber Stiinjic. 
SiHugcnie in Slaii0. 
(Semen hud bm ^bontjicrinncn. 
9Jiacbct(>. Gin Straucrfptcl, 

7. San b. — Xut'anbct, ^rtnjrfjEn zen Sfyt'na. 

£cr ^araftt. £tr Stcrre aid Dnfcl. p&abra. 
9lti$la|: 1. ©arbect IT. £ie Waltbefer. HI. Die 
winter bed £aufr«5. IV. Scmeirius. 

S. S a n b. — ®e!d)td&te ted 9lbfa33 bcr 2>ereinfgtcn Weterlanbe 
son bcr fpanii$en' SKcgicrung. 

O.San b.— G3c|^!d^e bed twfjjigja'drtgcu 5triegcd. 

10. San b.— 3>rofaifi$f Sdmfrcn. Grfte 5?criebe. 
^rc[aiia»c ^cyriftcn. ^wmz yeriote* 

ii. S a n b.— iticine Sdir'frcn aasttif^ten 3nbalt& 

12. 53 a :i b.— 2d;riftc;i t>crmi[d)ien .3n§alt3. 

^itmrrftlttfl. — Sitfecm rofr nnfmt teuffdjen SWttburgern <S d& 1 1- 
Icr'y faln*ntM#e SBcttfc in scrfdjicccncn 2hi$gaben bictni, fct c3 un3 



3. frVHeVg 58 cr I ag. 13 

fleftattet, ben Umfranb befonberg ^ersorjufteben, bag frtr rocber Soften 
nocb TObe fdjeuten, urn ba-3 flctttfl febr bebeutente Untcrnebmcn tn 
finer bem beut!"dj=amcrifam'[cbcn ^erfag^itdjbartbel jnr Gbre gcret= 
ebeuben 5Bctfe burduufiibtcn. Wt bt'cjrm 3^ccfe bor 5(ngen rourbc 
nt'dit mir fiir nrirflfdj fcbiitic 3lu$itottung an £>rucf, $ap:cr~ itnb gtn^ 
banb ^orae gtfrrtgen, fonbern junki'd) nuf bit gro§te Sorreftfyeti unto 
^oflflanbfgfctt bebaebt genemmen, fo tap fid) imfcr ©erf in jet.er $tn« 
ftcbt ber beltcn GoftaTdwn $lu$-.iabe fiibn an bte secitc {Men barf unb 
otic anberttjarte erfcbtencncij ^(a^^aben roett Winter ft cb [ci^i. So tf)ct- 
len roir j> v iv bte. tn mancbcit ^OiSnabrn ganoid) fe()!cnben pcrfdn'ebencn 
Vrsartcn cint'ger (Sjcticbre .^cb titer's m ; 't; be^teid;en — wag na* 
mentlid) Jbeatcrh'ebbabmt fjoebfi erroiinfebt fcin nu'rb — bte fogcuannre 
,/8ubnc'nrtu?gabc" be 3 Sraucvjpiclo ,,D i e 3^ a u b e r/' bte yen Scbil- 
!cr felbft tin 3ahrc J 782 rad) ter £ite™tnrauSgabc bcarbeirct rourbf. 
Dif'e ^iib!tcnau>jaabe ftnb.t jtcjj nnr tn finer ein^tgnt tn X"eut!"c&!ant> 
rrfdtcnni Sluaanbe brr fainmtltcben SDcrfe 3d) tiler's, unb tnbem 
nnr tinfercm $&n.h bctb.p SluStja-ben btcfrS eivu popularen (&d»au* 
fptelvS ftnycrleiben. ulauben nnr ten -.Herein em be? g'rojjcn £)frij;crS 
ctnen beionrcru £tcnfr %n crr:ctfen. Tcr jeben and) nocb i'o ttnbemit? 
idreu beriicffirijttgenbe billige fret's berccbttgt bie in'rlag^bautlung jur 
I'tcbern Srmattun^ etiicr regen llittevi'tiiruirta ven cseucn tcS bcutfcbeii 
^ublifiunS unb finer albicnieincn ^evbreiiung bcr (S3e<Ytrr.mtrDcrfe 
Tejjen, ben £cuti~d)lant mit Stol] ten e&elfteji (enter 2$l>ne nennr. 

<£djiffcr' (Stebtf$frV.in Heiu Cera 1 ?, 750 ectten, tn bfutfdjcr 
imb cnglii'cber ^prnd)e (ctnaubct fteaeniibcifrrfyenb). 

9io. 1. Sluf wctjjem 3>rtpier, in lhrifd)Lag brocbtrt $i 20 

to. Sdjb'n 'in SDfuSlm fycbUnfcctt 1 50 

bo. bo. to. mft (V>o!tfdm;tfr 2 00 

to. (Sc&b'n in fya\b ^ftarocco, crtra, gebnnoen 2 00 

9?o. 2. 3luf fcincm Xonpaptcr, in Umutil.ig brorbut 1 50 

to. to. to. tn fetnrm ?J?u3ltnbanD 2 00 

to. to. bo. mk (s5olrfd)'.titt, bo. 2 50 

to. bo. bo. in balb s )j»\irccco, crtra 2 50 

Schiller's Poems, published both in German and Eng- 
lish (the two languages on opposite pages) small 
8vo, 750 pages. 

No. 1. On white paper, paper cover, 1 53 

u Elegantly bound in 1 volume, ] 50 

" do. do. do. gilt edges, 2 00 

No. 2. On tinted paper, in paper cover, ] 50 

" do. do. in fine cloth, 2 00 

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The same edition, in English only, white paper, 

bound in cloth, 1 00 

White paper, bound in cloth, gilt edges, 1 25 

On fine tinted paper, do 125 

do. do. do. gilt edges, 150 

4o. do. half morocco, extra. 150 



*4 3. flo&ler'a <Ber lag. 

Schiller's Complete Works in English. 

TWO VOLUMES LARGE ROYAL OCTAVO 

Selected from the best Translations by S. T. Coleridge, E. L 

Bulwer, Melish, A. J. W. Morrison, T. Martin, J. Churchill, 

C. J. Hempel, and others. 

Edited by Dr, CHARLES J. MEMPEL. 

PRICES : 
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Among all the great modern bards whose mighty intellects 
have thrilled and electrified mankind, Schiller towers pre- 
eminent. Not that we would ignore the just claims of others 
who vied with him for the wreath of immortality, yet we may 
* truly say that none of his great rivals did as much as he for the 
c.sase of humanity. With the loftiest genius he combined the 
greatest moral purity, the glowing fervor of the reformer, and 
the world-embracing love of the philanthropist. His was the 
devine spark that kindled the ecstatic fire of thought and feel- 
ing ; his were the soul-elevating strains that animated every 
bosom with love of virtue, truth, and liberty. He never pros- 
tituted his God-given genius to unworthy purposes ; he never 
penned a single line that did not, directly or indirectly, aim at 
the social, moral, and intellectual elevation of the human race. 
His great heart was all aglow with love for his fellow-men. 
Their sorrows were his, and his their joys. Hence the unparal- 
leled popularity which he enjoys among the German people ; 
hence the more than filial veneration with which they cherish 
his memory. It is not too much to say that, in Germany, Schil- 
ler's works are read and admired by as many millions, as 
Goethe's are by thousands. Certain it is that Schiller has 
exerted, and is exerting, a far greater influence upon the Ger- 
man mind than Goethe ; and we may safely say that no author, 
ancient or modern, has struck as deep and enduring roots in 
the hearts of the masses — Homer and Shakespeare alone ex- 
cepted. To Schiller's mighty influence, perhaps, as much as 

MR -0 1942 



